Home
by whyyesitscar
Summary: Two years ago, Alex Cabot "left" New York for an entirely new life. Will a dead man from Illinois be enough to bring her back?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Alex_

2 A.M. and I find myself starting another sleepless night in Rolling Plains, Illinois. It's been hard, adjusting to semi-rural life after living in the chaos that is New York City. I can't even practice law anymore; now I spend my days teaching English at a nearby high school. I feel guilty every day when I step into my classroom; here I am with a fabricated degree teaching kids. But they don't care. They think Ms. Brooks is a pretty cool teacher, even if she is a little uptight.

Ms. Brooks. Katherine Brooks. Me. I've spent two years in this quaint town, and I still find myself reacting whenever I hear shouts of "Alex!", even if they're not directed my way. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever stop, if I'll ever get used to it. I don't think I will. Living like this, living a lie, it's like living in someone else's skin, and I'm always itching to get out. But until Velez is dead, I'm condemned here; condemned to live with this eternal itch, no matter how much I try to scratch it away.

_Olivia_

Today is a gray day. I woke up feeling pretty good, exulting in the aftermath of the first real sleep I've had in years. And then I saw the paper. "_Cartel leader Cesar Velez found dead in a dumpster._" I sunk into my chair, forced down by the flood of memories. Memories of Alex lying on the ground, unmoving, eyes glassy. Memories of me holding her shoulder, trying to desperately to stop the bleeding, willing the blood to go back in her body. That night, I spent countless hours sitting on my bed, staring at my hands, at somebody else's life stained on them. I couldn't bring myself to wash them, to wash myself of her.

Sometimes I swear I can hear and feel her. I remember a time, about a month after she died, I could swear I heard her sob my name and I could feel her finger on my cheek, stroking it softly. It's moments like those that make me think she's still alive somewhere. But I know she's not every time I go and lay a flower on her grave.

"Liv." A voice breaks me out of my reverie. "C'mon, we gotta go." Elliot pats my back, urging me to get up.

"What is it now?" I pull on my coat and we walk briskly out the door.

"35 year old male, found dead in an apartment with his pants down. CSU said it looked like someone had tried to cut his heart out." Elliot fills me in on the details while we drive, but I'm not really listening. My thoughts are still with Alex, the life she could have had if Cesar Velez had died two years ago instead of today.

_Alex_

Ninth period English is always a struggle. The kids are antsy and distracted, and today is no different.

"Ms. Brooks, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Ms. Brooks, where did you live before this?"

"I'm your favorite, right?"

"Can't you just let us out early today? Pleeeeease?"

I can't help smiling. "Okay, how about this: if you guys pay attention today, I'll give you the last ten minutes to do whatever you want."

Roger, the class clown, pipes up. "How 'bout the last 40 minutes?" he asks, knowing full well that the class period is only 40 minutes long.

I give him a look, smiling, and turn to the board to start as the door opens. In walks Mr. Collins, the school principal, looking unusually grim. He motions for me to join him outside. With a "be good" to the class, I follow him out.

He sighs and looks down, as if he'd rather be doing anything but this. "Katherine, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just tell you." He sighs again. He looks ten years older than he did yesterday. "Jack is dead. He…he was murdered," he says, the hard line of his mouth turning down at the corners, betraying his nearness to tears.

I've gone pale and numb. "What? What did you say?" I'm certain I didn't hear him right.

He looks pained. "Please, don't make me say it again."

I sway alarmingly, my body sagging under the weight of the world on my shoulders. Mr. Collins catches me and propels me to a nearby bench, resting his hand on my back in a comforting touch.

I look over at him. "Jack? Jack Dawson? _My_ Jack?" I have to make sure. He nods curtly in response.

I suppress the wail growing in my throat, blink back tears, sniffle, and get up to go back to my class.

Mr. Collins shoots out of his seat. "Where are you going?"

"I have a classroom full of students waiting for me."

"Katherine…"

"Hugh, somebody has to break it to these kids. I want it to be me."

He looks at my hand on the knob, then nods slowly, looking defeated.

I take a steadying breath and open the door. The kids quiet down, and I sit myself on top of my desk. I see their heads turn, whispering; I usually stand. They've never seen me this informal.

I give them a strained smile. "We're not going to have class today." A cheer goes up that quickly dies out when they notice the look on my face. "Guys, I want to talk to you about something very serious." My voice cracks on the last word, and I take a moment to gather myself. The kids are positively terrified by now. "Kids, Mr. Dawson…Mr. Dawson is dead. He died," I clarify.

A lone voice breaks out. "What do you mean, he died?"

"What do you think she means, dumbass?" another student counters. I'm too sad to even reprimand his language. I know Jack was one of the most popular teachers. Every student loved him, and he was very fond of his kids. This is such a tight-knit community. I know everyone is devastated.

"How?" someone asks simply.

I look up. It's Anne, my straight-A student who has never uttered a word before now. If it's possible, my heart breaks even more. I look her in the eye. "I don't know, and I don't think I could tell you if I did."

The rest of the period passes in awkward, overwhelming, stifling silence, with quiet reminders of Jack's impact plastered on the faces of these kids. My heart breaks as I see Roger sitting quietly, his normally feisty face covered in tears, his body quivering as he tries to regain control.

The bell rings and everyone flinches. Nobody makes a move to get up until I quietly remind them that my car isn't big enough to fit everyone. This elicits a laugh, albeit a very feeble one. As each kid walks out the door, I stop and give them a hug, as much for my comfort as for theirs.

I want to go back to the time when life was nice and easy, when I actually got out of bed for a reason. Back before my world ended for the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Olivia_

The man lying on the floor makes me sick. I haven't thrown up at a scene since my first couple days on the job, and all of a sudden, I'm about to lose my lunch. I excuse myself and run to bathroom, having a hard time maintaining control. I know Elliot and the others can hear me retch in the toilet, but I don't care. I need to get this out of my system.

"Liv?" Elliot knocks softly on bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

I wipe my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine," I rasp back. I walk over to the door and open it to find Elliot staring at with the strangest look in his eyes, a mixture of concern and some other emotion I can't place.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, El, I'm fine. Just bring me up to speed."

"Okay. Jack Dawson, 35 years old, originally from Rolling Plains, Illinois."

"What's he doing here?"

"Well, his parents live in the city."

"Is this their apartment?"

"Nope, registered to Damien Wilcox. We haven't gotten a hold of him yet."

"What's the official cause of death?"

"We're dealing with one sick individual," Melinda Warner's voice sounds from another room. "Somebody tried to castrate our vic, then moved onto his heart. He was alive when the perp started cutting. From my estimates, it took him about ten minutes to die.

I snort in disgust. "That's a hell of a long time when you've got a gaping hole in your chest." I look over at Elliot. "Does he have any other relatives besides his parents?"

He shakes his head. "Doesn't seem that way. If we're done here, you wanna head over to talk to them?"

I nod. "Let's go."

_Alex_

I don't know how I got home that night. I only remember running to my couch and crying myself to sleep. I was too drained to make it to my room.

I woke the next day with a stiff neck. The only time I could remember feeling this badly was when I first went into Witness Protection. I sat in my office for days, looking at the only reminder of my past life – a candid picture of the squad I took one day. Everyone looks so animated – I somehow managed to capture one of the rare instances of joy. Elliot is doubled over from laughter, leaning on Munch for support, who's laughing and pointing at Fin. Olivia and Fin are standing on one of the desks, doing some ridiculous dance. She's looking directly at the camera, even though I know she couldn't see it. Cragen is only one without an expression of obvious glee. He's standing in the background, the look on his face a mix between "What on _earth_ are they doing?" and "How can I join without being conspicuous?"

For hours, I sat staring at the picture, not moving, just losing myself in my grief. I didn't even realize what I was doing until I saw my finger move toward the picture. With a sob, I whispered Olivia's name and stroked her cheek. I pulled back with a gasp; I could swear I actually touched her skin for a second. But just as soon as I felt it, it was gone.

After rising from the couch, I realize I don't know what time it is or even what I'm supposed to do. I settle for taking a shower; it'll probably calm my nerves. But just as I'm about to get in, my phone rings.

I curse under my breath and run to answer it. "Hello?" I ask, still groggy.

"Ms. Brooks? It's Agent Hammond."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Agent Hammond, you know you can call me Alex."

I can see him giving me a small smile. "Of course Ms. Brooks. Just as soon as you call me Jack."

"What do you need?"

He seems nervous. "Well, it's about your friend Jack…"

My heart sinks. "What is it?"

"You should expect some contact from the detectives in New York fairly soon."

"New York? Why New York?" I ask in confusion.

"That's where he was when he…when he was found."

Of course. I'd completely forgotten that Jack had gone to visit Damien.

"Thanks for telling me, Agent Hammond."

"Ms. Brooks…there's something else."

I can sense his hesitance. "What?"

He clears his throat before speaking. "Cesar Velez is dead."

_Olivia_

The meeting with Jack's parents isn't a happy one, not that they usually are. His mother is quietly sobbing, and his father is helplessly walking in circles.

"Mr. Dawson? Sir? Could I just have you sit down for a minute? It will make it easier for us to talk to you," I softly urge.

After a touch from his wife, Mr. Dawson pulls up a chair and sits down across from Elliot and me.

"When was the last time you saw your son?" Elliot asks in a quiet voice.

"Yesterday morning," his mother answers. "We were planning on taking him and Damien out to dinner tonight."

"Who's Damien?" I ask.

Mrs. Dawson answers. "Jack's boyfriend."

"Mrs. Dawson, is there anyone who has a problem with Jack, who might want to hurt him?"

"His fiancée", she says simply.

I'm confused. "Whose fiancée?"

"Jack's. He was getting married to keep up appearances. The rest of our family isn't as accepting as we are."

"Did Damien know about this?"

Mr. Dawson answers. "Yes. We've had a couple dinners with him and his parents. They're not tolerant people either."

Suddenly, a man I can only assume is Damien comes running in the door, a wild look in his eyes. He looks to Mrs. Dawson. "Lucy! Please, tell me this isn't real," he pleads.

I touch his shoulder. "Damien? I'm Detective Benson. Could we talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Damien, I understand your parents weren't very tolerant of your relationship with Jack."

He nods, clenching his jaw. "My father caught us kissing. He started yelling, threatening Jack. He said if he ever caught us again, he'd cut Jack's balls off."

I give Elliot a look. "Thanks, Damien. We'll be in touch."

Elliot leans in whispers in my ear. "Let's go talk to Daddy Dearest."

Before we walk away, I turn back to Damien. "Damien, did Jack have anyone he was close to besides you?"

"Yeah, a colleague at the school where he works. Katherine Brooks."

"Thanks, Damien."

_Alex_

"What do you mean, Cesar Velez is dead?"

Hammond sighs. "I mean exactly that, Ms. Brooks. His body was found in a dumpster."

"You mean I'm…free? I can go home?"

"Well, as soon as we determine it's completely safe, yes. Until then you're still under our care."

I can't say anything more. I hang up.

_Olivia_

We're sitting in the interrogation room, talking to Damien's father. "You didn't like Jack, did you, Mr. Wilcox?"

His mouth is set in a hard line. "No, I didn't. I'm not exactly sorry he's dead, either."

Elliot throws pictures of Jack's body at him. "You sorry you murdered him?"

He barely glances at the photos. "I told you, I didn't kill him."

"We both know you're lying. And when we get your fingerprints back from the lab, we'll have proof," Elliot says.

"I didn't do it!"

"You mind telling us where you were last night?" I ask.

He looks at me with hate in his eyes. "Like I already told you, I was out having dinner with my wife."

Just then, Cragen knocks and opens the door. "Liv, El, c'mere a sec."

We follow him out. "What's up, Cap?"

"Lab results just came back. No prints matching Mr. Wilcox."

Elliot sighs. "Okay, so he wore gloves. He still could have done it."

"No dice," Fin's voice chimes in. "Paid with a credit card for his dinner last night. Waiter remembers seeing him and his wife."

Cragen looks back at us. "Looks like you guys are taking a trip."

_Elliot_

I hate flying. Make me go to the doctor's, the dentist's, hell, throw me off a frickin' cliff, I don't care. Just as long as I don't have to take a plane to get there. There's something so absurd about trusting two guys I don't know when we're up 30,000 feet in the air. Any good cop would tell you that's stupid. And yet here I am sweating and gripping the armrests so hard my knuckles are white.

"Stop laughing at me, Liv."

I hate flying.

_Olivia_

Illinois is officially the most boring state in the U.S. We've been driving for hours, and all I've seen is cornfield after cornfield. It's putting me to sleep.

I lean my head back and close my eyes. "Are we there yet?"

Elliot scoffs. "You sound like my kids."

"And I'll keep sounding like your kids until you give me answer." He doesn't respond, so I continue. "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there –?"

"As a matter of fact we are," Elliot curtly responds as we pull into the driveway.

The house is nice; nothing too imposing, but it's not a dump either. It looks cozy. As we walk to the door, I'm surrounded by a well-groomed lawn littered with small flowers and the occasional pinwheel. Okay, it's not cozy; it's tacky. All that's missing is a picket fence.

Elliot and I walk the pathway to the door, a simple door with a quaint brass knocker. Everything about this house is simple. I wish my life could be as simple as this tiny house in this simple town.

Elliot knocks, three staccato raps. I can hear feet padding to the door, and after a few seconds, it opens.

"What is i—oh my God." I can't do anything except stare in shock at the blonde hair and blue eyes of the most realistic ghost I've ever seen in my life.

I guess simple is out of the question.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I just realized I never made the setting clear, which is kind of important to this chapter. Anyway, the story is set two years post-'Loss', only Alex never told anyone she was still alive, so 'Ghost' never happened. Also, if you couldn't figure it out, I'm leaning towards an A/O pairing. If you don't like it, sorry. Hope you enjoy! _

**Chapter 3**

_Alex_

I can hear the car door slam from my living room. It makes me smile because it is the heavy slam of a cop; it is the slam of internal agony, the physical interpretation of holding inside the gruesome details of countless cases. It's funny how the littlest things can make a person think of home.

A few seconds later comes the knocking, and I walk over to the door, knowing the detectives are listening to my gait; it is for this reason I tone down the sense of urgency threatening to burst out of me.

"What is i—oh my God." This can't be happening. She's not here, and I'm not looking into those all-too-familiar deep, brown eyes. I'm standing like an idiot, mouth agape, frozen against the door frame, and then suddenly I'm falling, falling down, and two strong hands catch me.

This can't be happening.

--

It takes me a few moments to come to, but once I do, I realize we're all inside my house, the three of us occupying my couch and chairs, looking at each other dumbly, trying to pass off the conversational baton.

"You must be here about Jack," I whisper feebly.

Olivia is the first to respond, her eyes blazing. "Alex, what the hell is going on? I mean, you are Alex, right? I'm not going crazy?"

I shake my head. "No, it's me. I mean, I haven't been me for two years, but I guess I can be now."

I can tell that Elliot is just as bewildered as Olivia, but for some reason he is deferring to her, as if I don't matter as much to him. Shock, however, gets the better of him. I can't blame him; I still haven't recovered.

"How are you _alive_? I mean…we went to your funeral. I saw them put your casket in the ground. You're dead. We buried you. Two years ago." His speech is punctuated, like it's impossible for him to form a coherent thought more than three words in length.

"I didn't die." I pause as Olivia scoffs. "Hammond and the other Feds put me in Witness Protection. For my safety."

"And you couldn't let us know this?!" Olivia blurts, the pain etched clearly in the worry lines and tired features of her face. "Jeez, Alex, why couldn't you reach out to us?" She runs her hands through her hair, harried. "You could have at least let us know, reassured us."

I look over at her. "No, I couldn't, and you know why. It would have been a very bad idea."

"A bad idea? A _bad_ idea? Screw bad ideas, Alex! We were your friends! You could have at least let us know," she repeats.

I'm getting steamed; it's not my fault I got shot. Why is she blaming me for all this? "Well, what did you want me to do, Olivia? Write you a letter? 'Dear Olivia and Elliot, sorry to break this to you, but I'm going into Witness Protection, maybe for the rest of my life. Hope yours are nice without me. Love, Alex.'"

"You could have at least let us know!" she screams again. "I thought we meant more to you than that!"

I start to shout again, but Elliot cuts me off. "Look, guys, we have all the time in the world to yell at each other. Right now, let's just focus on the reason we came down here, okay, Liv?" He shoots her a warning glance.

"Fine," she says petulantly. "So, _Alex_, or should I say 'Katherine', how well would you say you knew Jack?"

Tears are brimming in my eyes, tears of anger and tears of pain. "He was my best and only friend. He lived next door, so we were very close."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Olivia jeers.

By now I'm positively livid, and thankful that Elliot interrupts her next question. "Alex," he looks me in the eye, and my heart melts a little at the compassion I can see in his. "Do you know his fiancée well?"

"Yeah. I mean, we've spoken a few times. I don't think Rachel likes me very much. Probably because I wasn't mad at Jack for being with Damien."

"So you knew then," Elliot continues.

I nod. "Yeah. We talked about it a lot."

"What about his relationship with Damien's parents?"

I huff. "Jack and the Wilcoxes were about as close as Rachel and I are." I lock eyes with Elliot. "Damien's dad really didn't like Jack. He caught them kissing one time and he said he'd—"

"Cut off Jack's balls," Elliot finishes. "We already talked to him."

"Well then why haven't you arrested him? He threatened Jack; he didn't like him at all…" I'm speaking really quickly, eager to find someone I can finally blame.

"Alex," Elliot says in a soothing tone. "He's got an alibi. He didn't do it."

"Oh." My whole body sags as I sink further into my couch. I look at Elliot pleadingly. "Elliot, please. You have to find out who did this. Please."

"We will, Alex. I promise."

The awkward air in the house is more pronounced now than ever, and at the same time, all three of us rise.

"We'll be in touch," Elliot says, giving me a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. I flinch, even though the burning pain of two years ago has long since subsided.

Olivia walks out the door without saying another word, and I fall on the couch once again as I succumb to the tears that have quavered in my voice the entire time.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone for their lovely reviews and words of encouragement. They inspire me to keep writing. Right now, I have 11 chapters written, but I'm spacing out uploading them because I want to give myself the time to write more. I have to just say, however, that I just wrote the last chapter and I'm really excited about letting you guys see it. Now I just need to fill in the middle. Anyway, from here on out, I've kind of taken liberties with both Olivia's and Alex's past and shaped them into how I see them. It might seem a little out of character based upon what the show gave us, but I think I'm being reasonable. There's always so much more hidden in people than you would ever think and never guess. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 4**

_Olivia_

By the time Elliot and I get back to the hotel, I'm fuming.

"I can't believe Alex would do that!" If the fucking lamp wasn't bolted to the bedside table, I would throw it.

"Liv, what the hell has gotten into you? Calm down," Elliot tries to soothe me.

"No, I have a right to be angry! Why wouldn't she tell me, reach out to me at all? I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this."

I can see Elliot's getting confused. I know I shouldn't be taking it this hard, but I can't help it. I'm not mad at Alex, I'm mad at myself. Mad for not taking a chance on her when I could have. Mad at myself that I wasn't the one to catch her, that when it came right down to it, I froze. I had almost gotten over her, and now this. I can't take this; it's like losing control all over again.

I only realize I'm crying when I feel Elliot's hand steering me to the bed; he's telling me to "take it easy", rubbing my back to calm me.

"Liv. Liv, take it easy. C'mon, you're hyperventilating. Breathe, Liv."

"I'm sorry, Elliot." I sniffle and take a shaky breath. "I'm okay. I'm good." I start to get up, but Elliot pulls me back down.

He gives me an incredulous look. "Liv, you're not 'good'. I've never seen you like this, not even when we're working a tough case. What's up?"

"I can't do this tonight Elliot, okay? Just…just give me some time," I say meekly. I know he's not going to let it go; that's not Elliot's style. He pries. He's a prier.

"Okay," he nods slowly. "But we're not done with this. I'm not letting this go." He shoots me a warning glance.

I nod. "I know."

_Alex_

For the second morning in a row, I wake up disoriented on my couch. It takes me a while to figure out why I feel so crappy, and then I remember. I can't believe her, acting like I'm the bad guy. _It must have been really hard for __**you**__, Olivia, when __**I**_ _got shot, _I think. I hate that I'm mad at her, and I hate that all it took was one look for my feelings to come back, the ones I'd almost suppressed. I hate that I felt a little hopeful when she was screaming at me, because maybe it meant that I meant to her what she does to me. But when I remember the look in her eyes, I put it out of my mind. It's just not possible.

This time, I actually make it into the shower before the phone rings. I curse under my breath as I walk briskly to the phone, soap flying everywhere.

"Hello?"

"Alex, it's Elliot. Can we come talk to you today?"

"_We_? Are you saying your partner is done acting like a complete ass?"

"Alex, come on. You can't expect this to be easy for her; hell, it's not easy for me."

"And yet I don't see you screaming in my face."

"I've got kids, Alex. I've learned to restrain myself. You'd be surprised how many people turn into kids when they're angry."

"You forget I worked with you guys for three years."

This elicits a laugh. "We'll be by later, Alex." He pauses. "We're gonna make this right," he says softly.

I choke back a sob. "Thanks, Elliot. See you soon."

I get back in the shower, leaning my head back and letting the water run down my face until it's impossible to distinguish it from my tears.

--

About three hours later, there's a knock at the door. I sigh, my heart heavy as I let Elliot and Olivia in.

"Look, Alex, I'm sorry about yesterday. I was out of line."

"Are you really sorry, or are you apologizing because your big, mean partner told you to?"

At least she has the decency to look sheepish. "No, I really mean it."

After I don't rip into her, Elliot speaks up. "Well, now that we're all friends again, let's get down to business." He turns to look at me. "What do you know about Jack's fiancée …what was it, Rachel?"

"Yeah. I don't really know much about her; we're not close. But I know she's a really jealous person. She always hated that Jack and I were so close because she thought I was going to steal him from her, even though she knew he was gay."

"Did she know he was gay when they got engaged?" Olivia asks softly. I can tell she's trying to be calm and exaggeratedly polite.

I shake my head. "No, that's what really made her mad. I used to feel bad for her because I think she really did love him at one point, and it probably crushed her when she found out he didn't reciprocate."

Elliot looks quizzical. "So what changed your mind?"

I sigh. "There's something not right about that woman, Elliot. I always wondered why Jack got involved with her. I know he didn't love her, but I don't know how he put up with her either. She was very protective of Jack, and not in a good way."

"How so?"

"Well, I know she used to listen in on his calls, especially when he started dating Damien. Eventually, Jack had to tell Damien to call him only on his cell. And she would read his emails and ask him a thousand questions about where he was going, even if it was just to the store. And she remembers everything. She found out about Damien because she caught Jack in a lie. He told her that he was going on a business trip to Iowa. After he left on the trip, she called the airplane to get his flight information and they told her he got on a plane to New York. Sometimes I got the feeling that she thought she owned Jack. She treated him like he was a bad pet."

"Is she home right now?" Olivia asks.

I shake my head apologetically. "Sorry, Liv, I don't know. But I know she works in sales. For Omnicorp. Big technology company. And I know Jack was about to call off the wedding. He couldn't stand the fact that he had to lie to everyone."

Elliot and Olivia get up to leave. Elliot walks out the door, but Olivia lingers for a while.

"Sorry," she finally says.

I nod. "I know."

_Olivia_

I can see why Alex doesn't like Jack's fiancée; this woman is a nuisance.

"Ms. Kline? Please, if we could just talk to for a moment. It really won't take that long." She's walking so fast away from us I'm almost running to keep up.

"Look, I don't want to talk to you. Just let me grieve for my fiancé alone."

"With all due respect, Ms. Kline, you don't seem all that upset," Elliot chimes in.

She stops and flips around to talk to us. "How _dare_ you insinuate that I'm not upset! Of course I'm upset. My fiancé was _murdered_. How could I be anything but upset?"

"Look, Ms. Kline, if you'd just talk to us for a second, we can leave and let you go on your merry way."

She huffs. "Fine. But make it quick."

"Okay. Ms. Kline, did you know Jack was going to New York?" Elliot asks.

"Yes, he told me before he left."

"Did you know why he went?"

If it's possible, she looks more annoyed than she had before. "Yes, I did. Once I found out about Damien, he saw no reason to keep it a secret."

"'Kay. Where were you the day Damien was murdered?"

She looks flustered. "I…I was at work, of course." Her eyes narrow in a glare. "Why are you asking?"

Elliot gives a tight-lipped smile. "Just some routine questions. Thanks for your time."

As we walk away, I lean close to Elliot. "Why don't I believe her?"

"Let's go find someone to corroborate her story."

--

Back at the hotel, Elliot is on the phone with Cragen filling him in. I can't really focus on the case; I'm too preoccupied with Alex. I can't decide if I should take a chance on her. I'm reluctant because I'm afraid of rejection, which is ironic because I've been rejected all my life; why should it matter now?

"Yeah, Cap, we think the fiancée might have something to do with it."

_Elliot_

"Why do you have reason to suspect her?" Cragen asks.

"She hasn't exactly been forthcoming with us."

"That doesn't prove she did it."

"Yeah, well she also can't account for her whereabouts on the day of the murder. She said she was at work, but her boss said she took the day off."

There is a pause and I can see Cragen nodding. "Okay. We'll canvas around the area, see if anyone noticed her. Good work, Elliot."

"Thanks, Cap. I'll call back when we have some more information."

"Just a minute, Elliot. How did you even know to look into her?"

I sigh and hesitate. "Well…it's a little complicated. We got a tip from one of Jack's co-workers."

"The one he was close with? Katherine…Brooks?"

I chuckle. "Yeah, _Katherine Brooks_."

"How is that complicated?"

I'm about to tell him when I notice the look on Olivia's face. I decide that maybe now she's ready to open up, and I don't want to miss my chance.

"Look, Cap, I'll tell you later. Gotta go." I hang up.

I walk over to Olivia, and I can see fear in her eyes, but it's mixed with such a helpless expression that my heart breaks. I sit down next to her on the bed and put my hand on her back.

"Liv…you've gotta tell me what's going on."

She nods. "Okay."

_Olivia_

I know I have to talk to Elliot, but I still don't want to do it. I can't open my mouth to form a sentence. It's going to take some prodding.

Fortunately, Elliot senses this. "I'm not going to rush you, but you have to tell me. Why are you acting like this?"

"It's hard, Elliot. It's hard seeing her again."

"Sure it is," he says softly, "but it's hard for me, too. Somehow I have a feeling I'm not taking it as hard as you are."

I laugh quietly. "No, I don't think you are. It's just…I thought I had gotten over her."

He looks puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I sigh as my heart sinks. It's beating a million miles a minute and I'm surprised Elliot can't hear it. "El, I…I love her," I confess softly.

"So do I," he says slowly. "Like a friend."

I shake my head. "No, El. I _love_ her."

I see recognition light in his eyes as it dawns on him. "You mean…?"

I nod. "Yeah. I'm gay."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: So, this is pretty much where the story gets really interesting. At least I think so. Anyway, I took a lot of time describing Alex's house because I think where you live says a lot about you. Some of it may seem a little out of character for her, but I like the idea of a brooding artist-type hidden behind her lawyerly exterior. It just seems right._

**Chapter 5**

_Elliot_

I know I must look like such an idiot, standing here with my mouth hanging open, but this really wasn't what I expected. I couldn't be more surprised if she'd told me that she was a 200-year-old abominable snowman.

I run my hands over my face. "Jesus, Liv. Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs. "You never asked."

"Would you have told me if I did?"

She looks at me incredulously. "Of course I would have. You're my partner. I tell you everything."

"You didn't tell me this."

"Well, you didn't ask."

I sigh. I can see I'm not going to win this one. "Okay. So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"I think you need to talk to her, Liv. Tell her how you feel."

She looks up quickly, fear in her eyes. "What? No, I couldn't."

I put my arm around her. "Yes, you can. I know that if we go back to New York and you haven't told her, you're never going to forgive yourself."

"What if she doesn't feel the same way?" she asks in a timid voice.

I pause to think. "Well, then at least you'll know. But you have _got_ to talk to her."

She turns her head away and I can tell she's reluctant. Just as she opens her mouth to speak, the phone rings.

I sigh and get up to answer it. "Stabler."

"Elliot, we got her," Cragen says.

I'm confused. "Who?"

"Dawson's fiancée. The doorman outside of Damien's apartment building remembers seeing someone matching Rachel's description enter the building about half an hour before the time of death."

"Just enough time to have a conversation, get pissed off, and kill him."

"Yeah, and get this: we found a bloody knife in a dumpster about two blocks from Damien's apartment."

"You get prints?"

"Perfect match to Rachel Kline. Call the local sheriff's office and pick her up. I want you guys back here as soon as possible."

"Sure thing, Cap." I hang up the phone and turn back to Olivia. "Looks like Rachel did it. Cragen wants us back home. If you want to, I'll take Rachel back with me and you can stay here with Alex."

"What about Cragen?"

"Don't worry about him. I'll tell him something."

She nods slowly. "Okay."

_Olivia_

Calling Alex is probably one of the hardest things I've done in my life. My palms are sweaty, and I've lost count of how many times I've picked up and put down the phone.

"Liv, come on. You need to do this."

"I can't, Elliot, I just can't," I balk.

"Fine." Elliot picks up the phone and starts dialing.

"What are you doing?" I ask nervously.

He pulls the phone away from his mouth. "Helping you." Whoever he called has just picked up the phone, so he turns back. "Alex? Olivia needs to talk to you."

He hands me the phone, urging me to take it. "No," I mouth. "I can't."

Suddenly, the phone is next to my ear. I can hear Alex breathing. "Hi," I whisper.

"What is it, Olivia?"

I hesitate. "Look, Elliot is heading back to New York tomorrow with Rachel. We think she may be….involved."

"And you're not going with him?"

"I…I thought that maybe you could use some company."

"Olivia, I don't think…"

"Look, Alex, I'm not ready to go back. Please, just let me stay with you for a few days."

After a few tense moments, she relents. "Okay. Bring your stuff over here tonight."

"Thanks, Alex." With a shaky hand, I hang up the phone. Then I collapse in Elliot's arms and dissolve into a wet, soggy, teary lump.

_Alex_

There's a knock on the door about half an hour after I hang up the phone. I open the door to find Elliot with a duffel bag, and Olivia standing behind him, refusing to look at me.

"Come on in, guys. I don't have a guest room, so Liv, you can camp out on my couch." I don't bother to offer she take my bed because I'm not done being mad at her.

Elliot drops the duffel bag on the couch, and with a quick hug to Olivia, he's gone. Olivia and I both sit on the couch, curled up on opposite sides, trying as hard as we can to not touch each other.

"You look like hell, Liv," I finally say.

She looks up at me. "So do you."

"What are you doing here, Olivia?"

"I thought it might be nice for you to have someone to talk to."

I bring my knees to my chest and rest my chin on them. "Well, I guess so," I relent. "Now that Jack's gone, I don't know who I'll talk to, if anyone."

"Was he a good guy, then?"

I give her a small smile. "Yeah, we had a lot in common. If he wasn't at school or visiting Damien, he was over here. I don't think he went home much except to sleep. Or if Rachel made him come home. We'd just spend the night talking. Sometimes we'd be crying from laughing so hard and other times we'd just be crying. But I wouldn't change any minute of it." Suddenly, I'm very aware of the tears streaming down my face. "I really miss him," I choke out.

Olivia scoots over and puts her hand on my back, albeit very reluctantly. I welcome the contact. "Oh, I'm sure you do, sweetie. What happened was horrible. But you can get through it."

I lay my head in her lap as I sob. I'm lulled to sleep by her gentle rocking, and for the first time in days, I feel safe.

_Olivia_

Having Alex in my arms feels so right. It takes her about fifteen minutes to fall asleep, and only another two for my legs to do the same. Taking care not to wake her up, I gently move her off my lap and cover her with a blanket. I'll use this opportunity to explore her house.

Most of the décor is what I'd expect from Alex: earthy browns, forest greens, and navy blues. The inside of her house is a lot more sophisticated than the outside; I'll have to ask her why later. The layout of the first floor is very open and welcoming. It makes me wonder why she doesn't have a guest room; the house is certainly big enough to hold one.

I can't help being impressed by the immense kitchen. The fridge and cupboards are stocked with multiples of foods – the supply of someone who is a good cook, but only when it comes to certain meals. The tile is cold against my feet. It's making me shiver.

I take a quick peek at the bathroom, and then I head off to the only other room with a door. When I open the door, I realize it's her office. It's very simple and sparsely decorated, but it has warmth to it. Judging by the tattered appearances of the books on the shelves and the worn-out chair, I can tell she spends a lot of time here.

I'm about to leave when I see the picture sitting on her desk. I crack a smile when I look at our ridiculous positions. Seeing how happy we were makes me realize just how unhappy I've been lately.

I soak in the feeling of being in Alex's house, then I start making my way back to the couch. I want to be there when she wakes up.

The navy blue shag rug feels good between my toes, and I'm so caught up in the feeling that I don't realize the couch is empty. It's then that I notice the faint tinkle of piano keys.

_Alex_

I wake up to find myself snuggled under a blanket. Olivia's nowhere in sight, so I head upstairs to think. At first, I sit on my bed and spend about fifteen minutes just looking around. It's not helping, though; my entire room makes me think of Olivia. I redecorated it about a month after I was placed in the program, and it's a constant reminder of what happens when I get mad. The walls are angry – tired of the white, I bought some paint, took all my stuff out of the room, and spent a day splattering it on the walls. I don't think it's a coincidence that the colors I picked remind me of a bruise – sickly blues, purples, and reds. Still, I have to admit, it's as pleasant of a bruise as you can get. It's charming in a sad way.

After I finished with the walls, I decided to redo my entire room. Looking at it now, I realize I channeled my inner teenager – the rebel who never surfaced under the constant pressure of my parents. I went out and bought a black, metal bunk bed, and I replaced my door with a velvet black curtain. Sometimes it seems silly, and I think I should get rid of it, but I never will because it's so comforting.

I debate pulling out a book from my shelf and losing myself in it, but I can't concentrate enough to get through a sentence. When I get like this, my piano is my only solace. My bedroom really doesn't take up much space on the second floor; the bulk of it is dedicated to my instruments. I have a guitar named Baby sitting in the corner, but I don't really play it much. I'm still learning.

My real baby is my piano. Its sleek black finish and polished keys were my friends when I had none, the comforting arms I ran to after a hard day, which were plentiful in the beginning. It is an ultimate comfort, and it never ceases to calm me down.

I sit down and start to play "Ave Verum Corpus." It is a perfect piece for my mental state right now – sweet, sad, and filled with a sense of longing. It isn't a very long piece, and I finish playing it in a couple of minutes. I'm about to start in on Chopin's "Prelude in E minor" when I hear a shuffle behind me.

I turn around to see Olivia standing in the doorway. "I didn't know you were listening."

She clears her throat. "That was beautiful. I didn't know you could play like that."

I smile. "It's a Cabot rite of passage. Every Cabot takes piano lessons once you turn six. A lot of my cousins hate it, but I latched onto it. It's comforting."

When there is a lull in the conversation, Olivia takes some time to look around my music wing. "Well," she says, looking at me once again, "at least now it makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

"Why you don't have a guest room."

I look down. "Oh, yeah. I just figured I wouldn't ever have need for one. I never really planned on making friends."

"So if this pretty much takes up the whole floor, where's your bedroom?"

I flick my head in the direction of the curtain. "Over there."

She looks at me like I'm crazy. "You have a _curtain_? It looks like it belongs in the Phantom of the Opera."

"Hey, I like it," I defend. I follow Olivia into my room. I'm not really sure if I want her to see it, but by the time I decide that I don't, she's already slipped in.

I can tell she's stunned by its appearance. "Wow. This…this is something else." Her eyes find the bed. "A _bunk_ bed? What are you, thirteen?"

I blush. "I like it. It's comfy."

Before I notice it, Olivia is perusing my books and rifling through my papers. _Just like a cop_, I think with a smirk, which she notices.

"What?" she says playfully.

"You just never stop being a cop."

"I can't stop being a cop. It's in my blood."

I widen my smirk. "Oh believe me, I know."

She stops her search and jiggles the bottom drawer of my nightstand. "What's in here?"

"Uh…nothing. Just some papers."

"Must be some important papers if the drawer's locked."

"Yeah, well, everyone's entitled to their secrets, I guess," I say sharply.

Fortunately, Olivia picks up on my tone and drops it – but not without a parting comment. "Sometimes keeping secrets only makes it worse."

I nod. "I know."

How well I know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Olivia_

After our talk, I head back downstairs in the hopes that I can get some sleep. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and within minutes, I'm out like a light.

I'm awakened the next day to the sounds of pots and pans banging around in the kitchen. I wake with an eloquent snort and get up, untangling myself from the knots I've made in the sheets.

I plod into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and yawning. "Morning," I breathe sleepily. "What time is it?"

"About eleven. I thought I'd make you some breakfast as an apology. We didn't exactly get off on the right foot."

I blush. "_I_ should be the one apologizing. I was a major pain in the ass."

"True," Alex says with a smile. "But I wasn't exactly open to listening."

I watch her cook for a while, thinking how she looks so endearing in an apron and her pajamas. I wish I could get up to this every day.

She sets our plates on the table, and we eat in silence. It's slightly more comfortable than recent ones have been, and I can tell we're both taking the time to think of the right thing to say to each other. Unfortunately, we both start talking at the same time.

"Alex…"

"Olivia…"

She shakes her head. "You go first."

Suddenly, I don't have the urge to say much. "No, it's okay, you start."

She shakes her head once again. "No, really. I want to hear what you have to say."

I take a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Well, what I really wanted to say was that I'm sorry for the past couple of days. I just…I just didn't know how to react to seeing you again. It was really sudden."

"It was really sudden for me, too. I don't know if you noticed," she leans closer to me, "but I fainted."

I laugh. "No, I definitely noticed. I noticed so much that I forgot to catch you."

"Lucky Elliot was there then."

"Yeah. Look, Alex, I –" I'm about to tell her everything, but I'm overtaken by such paralyzing fear that I freeze up. "Why don't you take me on a tour of the town? It might get your mind off this…situation."

I can tell she's disappointed. "Okay," she says after a moment. "Sure."

She gives me towels and we both disappear into separate showers. I don't know about her, but I take the opportunity to think about what I'm going to say to her. Sometimes I wish the right words could just flow out of me like the soap does off my body.

_Alex_

I feel let down when Olivia doesn't share whatever secret she's hiding, but I'm not really surprised. I can tell she has some thick walls built around her. I decide I'll break them down later; right now I'm too focused on how right it felt seeing her amble lazily into my kitchen. I wish I could start every day like that.

I take a short shower; I never was one to linger. I'm out and dressed before Olivia, so I grab a mug of coffee and sit on the couch. I smile to myself as I see the tangled sheets; I wake up to that every day. The fact that neither Olivia nor I sleeps well comforts me a little, but mostly it makes me sad, because I know that sleep for her isn't the restorative thing it should be.

Olivia's voice surprises me. "Hey," she says perkily.

I start to get up. "You want some coffee for the road?"

"Sure, that'd be great," she says, a big grin plastered on her face.

"What are you so happy about?"

She gives me a bashful smile. "It's good to see you again." After a brief but awkward silence, she perks back up again. "So! Where are we going?"

"Well, there's a nice lake not too far from here. I thought we could sit on the docks and chat, maybe go out to dinner later."

"Sounds great."

As we head out the door to my car, I can't help smiling. _You're right, _I think. _It is good to see you again._

--

We've been sitting on the docks for a couple of hours, not really saying much. It's a lazy sort of silence; neither of us feels the need to speak, and we're both okay with that.

"Do you like it here?" Olivia asks.

I turn to face her. "It's nice," I concede. "But it's not home. I miss New York."

She turns her head to look at me, a goofy half-smile adorning her face. "You mean the incessant honking of thousands of cabs; the constant smell of garbage; the uncomfortable jostling of the morning pedestrians? You miss that?"

Suddenly, I'm feeling very wistful. "Yeah," I nod. "I do."

"Are you coming back?" Her eyes meet mine and I see fear. I don't want to reject her, but at the same time I can't get her hopes up; it wouldn't be fair.

"I don't know," I say truthfully. "I don't know if I'm ready."

She reaches over and grasps my hand. "If it helps, I think you are."

I give her hand a squeeze, and suddenly I'm not so scared. I feel like I could fly.

_Olivia_

It's nice, just sitting here with Alex. This lake really is a beautiful spot; after fifteen minutes, I'm completely calmed. But after a few hours, I'm starting to get restless.

"Do you like it here?"

I can tell she's looking at me, but I don't look back. "It's nice," she says. "But it's not home. I miss New York."

I give her my most winning and charming smile. "You mean the incessant honking of thousands of cabs; the constant smell of garbage; the uncomfortable jostling of the morning pedestrians? You miss that?"

Alex gets quiet and I can tell she's thinking. "Yeah. I do."

"Are you coming back?" I have to know. If she isn't, if she says no, I'm getting on the next flight out of here. I look in her eyes and I hope she can't see the desperate fear I feel.

"I don't know," she finally says. "I don't know if I'm ready."

I'm disheartened by her answer, but I haven't completely given up. 'I don't know' isn't a 'no'. It may not be a yes, but it's definitely not a no.

Suddenly, I surprise even myself and grasp her hand. "If it helps," I say as a consolation, "I think you are."

She squeezes my hand. I feel like I could fly.

Just as we're settling back into our lazy moment, my stomach grumbles. I laugh. "Guess it's time to go." I get to my feet and extend a hand to help her up. She accepts it, blushing and mumbling her thanks.

"Where's a good place to eat around here? Or do you only have one restaurant?" I ask once we get back in the car.

She smiles and smirks at me. "For your information, there is a lovely bar and grill just up the street. They have some of the best damn burgers I've ever eaten."

I gasp in mock surprise. "Alex Cabot eats burgers? With all their juicy, dripping mess?"

"I can hold my own with a large, juicy burger, thank you very much."

"Huh. I wouldn't have figured you as the burger type," I say playfully.

She smirks even more. "What you don't know about me could fill a book, I imagine."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Alex_

Dinner with Olivia is fantastic. It's like nothing has changed, and I almost think that someone's pager is going to go off at any moment, calling one of us back to work. I miss New York so much that a part of me wants to hear that incessant buzzing.

"So what do they have you doing here?" Olivia asks as she takes a sip of her wine.

"I teach English at the high school."

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Huh," she mumbles into her food.

"What?" I ask playfully.

"No, it's nothing." She clears her throat. "You just don't seem like the…"

"Teacher-type?" I interject.

She shakes her head. "No, I wasn't going to say that at all. I bet you're a great teacher. I just figured they would have stuck with some kind of law class."

I blush at her compliment. "Well, they decided to stick me with something I know that wasn't so obvious. I majored in English during college."

Olivia smirks. "Alex Cabot the Shakespeare nerd?"

I smile. "No, more like Alex Cabot, the 'girl who walks around quoting feminist literature to anyone who looks at her funny.' It's one of my more endearing qualities."

Olivia laughs, contentment dancing lightly on the features of her face. My heart pangs. _God, I've missed her_, I think.

She notices my momentary seriousness. "What is it?"

"It's just…well, I didn't really realize how much I missed you until just now," I say softly.

She puts down her drink and matches my timidity. "Alex, I…you don't know what it was like when you…left. I don't think anyone's really been the same since. I couldn't believe it when I heard. It was like, like part of me was missing or something. I'm just so glad to see you again."

My heart melts as I listen to Olivia speak. I want to reach over the table and grab her hand, but I can't. My mind won't let me, and so I'm forced to sit and simply let the longest ten inches I've ever seen go by untouched.

"God, there are so many things I want to say to you…" Olivia's voice breaks my reverie.

"What?" I say as I jerk into focus. By the look in her eyes, I get the feeling that she doesn't know she just said that out loud.

"What?" she mimics.

I look at her for another moment. "Nothing." I push my plate back and start to get up. "C'mon. Let's go."

She rises and follows me quietly, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

_Olivia_

What Alex said over dinner sparked a thought in my mind, and on the car ride home I can't help voicing it. "Do you write?"

She glances over at me quickly then returns her gaze to the road. "What?"

"Do you write? You know…creatively, or whatever. I just figured since you're into English, that you'd write."

"Yeah, sometimes. It's a nice outlet." I can tell she's getting nervous. It's probably none of my business, and I can tell it's a touchy subject, but I can't help myself. I'm a cop; I'm supposed to be annoyingly inquisitive.

"Is that what those 'papers' are in your drawer?"

She thinks for a moment before answering. "Yeah," she says almost inaudibly.

"Why do you keep them locked up?"

"Look, Liv, just drop it, okay?" I guess I've hit a nerve. "I don't feel the need to pry into your personal life, so let's not talk about mine."

"Fine," I snap. "Just trying to help," I childishly add.

"And just how do you think you can do that? Can you give Jack back to me? Can you give me back the two years I lost because of Velez? Hmm? What could you possibly do that would help me?"

"Look, Alex, one of these days you're going to realize that letting people in really isn't as bad as you think it'll be," I counter, just as angrily.

"Oh, right," she scoffs, "I bet _you_ let everyone in on your life, Liv. Don't even try to give me advice when you can't take it yourself. Look me in the eyes and tell me that there aren't things you want to tell me that you haven't because you're too scared."

My silence is as damning as any retort I could throw at her.

"That's what I thought."

--

To put it lightly, the next two days are hell. I've tried talking to Alex, but I just can't overcome my fear. And I know she can tell. I think that's the only reason she hasn't kicked me out yet; she knows that if she pushes me hard enough, I'll tell her why I'm here. And yet I can't let go, I can't stop resisting. I hate that I'm so damn good at it.

What I really want to do is lose myself in a case. I need a distraction from Alex, a distraction from my inabilities. I've been on the phone with Elliot every second I can manage, but it's not helping. He cracked the case, a typical jealous lover – "if his heart doesn't belong to me, it doesn't belong to anyone. So I think I'll cut it out so it _does _belong to me." Is it bad that I would find relief in that?

I don't think I've moved much from my perch on the couch, so it's understandable that I start when Alex's footsteps make a creak in the floorboards. I turn to look at her.

"Hey," I whisper.

"Hey." She looks down and crosses her arms. "Look, Liv, I…I think you need to leave."

I get up in alarm. "What? Why?"

She sighs. "Well, it's just that…it would be great if you were here to help me, let me rant about Jack. But I can tell that you're not. And I'm not saying you don't care, because I know you do. But I just think that it would be better if you left."

"Alex…I can't leave now. It just wouldn't be right."

She shakes her head and huffs in frustration. "No, Liv, what's not right is that my best friend is dead, and now I have no one to talk to. And all we've done is yell at each other for two days. You need to leave."

"Alex, you can always talk to me." I try to give her a hug but she pushes me away.

"What are you doing here, Liv?"

"Helping you. Or trying to, at least."

"Do I look like I need help?"

"Yes," I answer truthfully.

"Well, I don't. At least not from you. So why don't you go back to New York?"

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"You need me."

"No, I don't. Go home."

"No," I say quietly but forcefully.

Suddenly, she explodes with unexpected rage. "What _is_ this to you, Liv? Huh? You already solved the case! Just leave!"

"Alex, I can't…"

"Why? Why can't you just leave me alone? What am I, a charity case?"

"No, I –"

"Are you fulfilling your desire to fix people? 'Cause let me tell you, Liv, I don't need to be fixed. I'm not broken."

I move closer to her, reaching out a comforting arm. It's getting hard to contain my anger; this woman gets me riled up more than anyone else, even Elliot. "Alex…"

She jerks away. "No, Liv! No. Why are you here, huh? Why have you been sitting in my house for three days with that utterly annoying 'I'm so concerned' face, huh? Why the _hell_ are you here?"

"Because I love you!" I blurt.

_Alex_

"Because I love you!"

I stop cold. "What?"

"Because I love you," Olivia repeats softly.

I run my hands through my hair. "Jesus, Liv…" I trail off.

She turns around and starts to walk away. "I'll just go."

"Like hell you will." I grab her arm and spin her around, crushing our lips together. She moans into my mouth, running her hands wildly through my hair and all over my body. After a few moments, I can taste her tears on my lips, and I pull away. I can feel her reluctance to let go.

"Alex…"

I stroke her cheek, smiling. "Your skin feels just as soft as last time"

She looks confused. "Last time…?"

I'm suddenly embarrassed. "Yeah, um, there was one time, in the beginning, when I was having a hard time adjusting, and, well, I –"

"You were crying and you said my name," she cuts in. "You must have touched the picture on your desk," she mutters to herself as an afterthought.

"Yeah, I – how did you know about the picture?"

Now it's her turn to look embarrassed. "Remember that night when I caught you playing the piano? Before that I was kind of snooping around your house," she smiles sheepishly.

I smile, too. "You little sneak!" I stop as it dawns on me. "But how did you know what I did?"

"I heard you," she says softly. "And I could feel you, too."

I'm shocked. "Really?"

She nods. "Yeah, really." She takes a shaky breath, and I can see the relief on her face. I know what she's feeling; it's so freeing to have finally let it out. "Al, you scared me so much that night. I thought I'd lost you," she says, her voice breaking.

I step forward and she desperately wraps me in her arms, clinging to me. "I'm not going anywhere," I whisper. I rest my head on her shoulder. "Hey, Liv?"

"Yeah?" I can feel her looking down at me, so I look up.

"I love you, too."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: The poem in this chapter is actually one that I wrote completely separate of this story but I thought it would fit nicely. _

**Chapter 8**

_Olivia_

I can't believe how happy I am right now. It's like something out of a fairy tale, only there are two damsels in distress, and we kind of saved each other. Well, whatever. I'd read that story.

I don't know how long Alex and I just stood there, holding each other and savoring the feeling of being close. I think she fell asleep for a moment, and I wouldn't have woken her up if not for the fact that I was desperately itching to tell someone how extraordinarily content I was.

"Alex? Alex?" I squeeze her arms a little bit to wake her up.

"Hmm?" She breathes sleepily.

"This is great, but do you mind if I call Elliot? I feel like I'm about to burst."

She looks up and smiles at me, and my heart melts. I can't help smiling with her. "Sure, no problem."

With a thank you I kiss her lightly on the lips and pull out my phone. It takes a couple rings for Elliot to pick up, but he does eventually.

"Hi, Elliot. Guess what?"

_Elliot_

Working cases without Liv is weird. We just complement each other so well, that it's like I can't think straight when she's not here. Even so, I never fail to get completely immersed in whatever case we're working on, so I don't notice my phone ringing at first. Once it registers, I pick it up quickly, hoping it's Olivia.

"Stabler."

"Hi, Elliot. Guess what?"

"Liv! How's it going down there?"

"Great."

"Did you guys work things out?"

"Yeah."

"And…?"

She sighs in frustration. "Well, I was about to tell you, but you're not letting me speak."

I chuckle. "Sorry. Continue."

"Well, I talked to Alex today, and –" I hear a throat clear in the background. "Okay, we kind of yelled at each other a little –" The next 'ahem' is even more pronounced. "Okay, we yelled at each other a lot."

"That's great?"

"Well, I'm not done! Anyway, well, it seems kind of silly now to say this over the phone. Gosh, I sound like such a teenage girl…"

"Liv! Get to the point."

"She loves me." I can hear her happiness clearly in her voice, and I can feel her glowing. I can't help grinning like a really proud big brother. But a big brother who will still knock the stuffing out of anyone who hurts his sister.

"Liv, that's great! Does that mean you're coming back?"

"Well," she hesitates, and I can sense that she's turning away from Alex. "I don't know. We haven't really talked about it, but I think it might take some prodding. Do you think you could talk to Cragen for me?"

"Well, sure, but he'll probably want to know why, and to be honest, I think he already suspects something's going on. I might have to tell him. Is Alex okay with that?"

There is a brief moment of silence. "I don't know. Hold on a sec." While Liv talks to Alex, I return my attention to my case, although I'm only paying attention out of boredom. I try to make out the muffled conversation, but it's no use.

"El? She says it's fine just as long as you don't tell Cragen about…well, you know…_us_."

I nod my head, as if she can see me. "Sure, I get it. I'll talk to him right now, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks a lot, Elliot."

"No problem. And Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"Good for you," I say sincerely.

Even over the phone I can see her blush. "Thanks," she mumbles.

I hang up and get out of my chair to go to Cragen's office, but when I turn around he's standing right behind me.

"Hey, Cap. Can I talk to you in your office?"

He nods. "Sure. What's up?" he asks as he closes the door.

"Well, that was Olivia on the phone. She was wondering if she could maybe stay there for a while."

He frowns. "How long?"

I put my hands in my pockets and look down at the floor, shuffling my feet nervously. "Well, I don't really know, but I don't think it would be too long."

"Look, you already caught the killer. What could be so important that she needs to stay down there?"

"Um, well, you know that friend of Jack's? The one who gave us the tip about his wife?"

"Yeah, Katherine something-or-other. What about her?"

"Well, her name's not really Katherine. It's Alex."

He furrows his brows in confusion. "So?"

"Alex Cabot."

He looks at me like I just killed his dog, and then he propels himself backwards into his chair. "Alex Cabot? As in…_our_ Alex Cabot?"

"One and the same."

"But…she died," he protests stupidly.

"She went into Witness Protection. Anyway, Liv thinks it would be a good idea to kind of talk her into coming back, you know, and not rush her or anything."

He nods absentmindedly. "Sure, sure. Sounds great."

I start to leave, but stop right before I open the door. "Oh, and could you not mention this to Munch or Fin? I don't think Liv and Alex don't really want to tell people yet."

"Uh huh. Yep." I have a feeling he's not really paying attention anymore.

When I leave his office, his mouth is still hanging open.

_Alex_

I can't just sit around and wait for Olivia to finish talking to Elliot; I need to do something. Right now, I can't believe how free I feel. It's like a humongous weight is off my chest, and it takes a few moments before I realize I haven't stopped smiling for ten minutes straight.

I'm not really walking with a clear destination, so it's a bit of a surprise when I find myself in my room. It takes me a little bit to figure out why I'm there, but I'm so full of happy feelings that it only feels right to recognize the sad ones.

I go to my bookcase and pull out my tattered copy of Jane Eyre. In between pages 296 and 297, as always, is the key that unlocks my drawer full of papers. I kneel down and open it, immersing myself in my writings. Some make me ashamed, and some make me smile with the memories of times past. But all make my heart ache, and it is with a giddy grin that I realize that I have Olivia, and it will never ache that way again.

There's a knock at my door. "Hey." Olivia stands against my doorframe, her knuckles still frozen in a fist. "Are you okay?"

I furrow my brows in confusion. "Of course I am. Why?"

She points to my face. "You're crying."

I touch my cheeks and I'm surprised to find that they're wet. "Sorry," I say as I wipe away my tears. "I didn't even realize."

She crosses the room and sits across from me. "Don't apologize." She brushes away a stray tear from my face with her thumb. "What are you reading?" she asks after a pause.

"Oh." I blush. "Just some of my old poetry."

"Can I read some?" she asks nervously.

I hesitate. "Sure," I say, extending my arm and handing her the one I had just been perusing. "Most of them are about you anyway." My face reddens.

"Really?" She looks a little flattered. She glances down at my poem before reading it completely. "When did you write this one?"

"About a week before I got shot."

She starts to read it, and I find that I can't look her in the eye anymore; it's unbearable to watch her read my soul. Besides, I've read that one so much I've memorized it. It's probably the truest piece of poetry I've ever written.

_And if I could, I'd give you the moon.  
Break it up into a million pieces  
and give one to you every time you're  
sad._

_I'd give you the stars, but  
they're a dime-a-dozen and  
there's only one moon._

_I think that maybe,  
sometimes,  
you feel the way I do--  
that you'd give me the moon too  
if you had the chance._

_But I know you don't  
because I can look outside at night  
and still see it shining back at me.  
The kind of shine that  
makes you blind with one glance._

_It mocks me.  
"What? You think you're in __**love**__?__  
Prove it. Give me to her."  
And every time I reach, it jumps  
back, sneering. Laughing.  
It taunts me like a five-year-old boy  
teasing the girl he secretly loves  
on the playground._

_And ever so childishly, I retort,  
"I know you are, but what am I?"_

_What am I?_

While she reads, I pick at my carpet, every second passing as slowly as possible. It makes me nervous, knowing that she's reading what I wrote, and I can't help but worry about what she'll think. _What if she hates it? What if she thinks it's stupid? What if she thinks __**I'm**__ stupid? _My thoughts hurtle and smash into each other, colliding at unthinkable speeds, every clash pulsing in my head.

"Alex…" she whispers plaintively.

I look up and see such pain and compassion in her eyes that it paralyzes me. I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. "Yes?" I manage to croak.

She doesn't respond but instead puts down the paper and enfolds me in her arms. I'm thrown off guard by the embrace, but before long I'm burying my head in her shoulder and sobbing, my tears soaking her shirt. She doesn't say anything but she starts to rock me gently.

When I finally stop crying, my whole body feels like it's made out of jelly. I make no effort to get out of Olivia's lap, so she picks me up and lays me in my bed. She covers me with a blanket and starts to walk out of the room.

I grab her wrist. "Liv, please. Don't go. St-stay with me tonight," I stutter. She nods and climbs into bed with me, wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her chin in the nape of my neck. For the first time in two years, I'm home.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: This is probably one of my favorite chapters. I love writing a character's vulnerability. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it, and thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. They really do make this worthwhile._

**Chapter 9**

_Olivia_

Lying with Alex is probably the most peaceful moment I've had in a while. I know I should try to sleep, but I can tell it's not going to happen tonight. Still, it's nice to lay here and stroke her hair. Every time I reach my hand up to the top of her head to start again, she lets out a little sigh. It's quite possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. Eventually, the sighs become increasingly infrequent as she falls asleep. When she finally does, I gently unwrap myself from her and slip quietly out of the room. It's not that I don't want to sleep with her, it's just that I need some time to think without her beauty to distract me.

I stand in her music room for a while trying to decide where I want to go. I don't feel like being in her house, but I don't want to walk around this strange town at night. After a few moments, however, I can't figure out a solution so I start to make my way downstairs. It's then that I notice a slightly-open window. I walk over to it, and I find that it opens up directly to her roof. When I step outside, I notice that there is a small chest sitting against the side of the house. I open it up, and I smile when I see its contents – a sleeping bag and pillow.

I lay them out on the roof, and with a quick check to the sky for clouds, I head back inside to write Alex a note – it might not be such a good idea if she woke up and didn't know where I was. I slip back outside, leaving the window open just a little. I snuggle under the sleeping bag and rest my head on my interlocked fingers. The night is pleasantly cool, and I take a deep breath, savoring the scent of fresh air.

For the next few hours, I simply lay there and reminisce on my past relationships and their flaws. I allow myself to be lost in the memories of cheating lovers, of rejection and distance, but most of all, of my inadequacies. My heart swells when I realize I've finally found someone who actually makes me want to change. I'm not naïve enough to think that this will be a perfect relationship – the combination of Alex and I is enough to precipitate a very tumultuous one. But right now, all I can focus on is the good, and it is with this thought that I fall asleep to a perfect sunrise, sighing lazily into my pillow.

_Alex_

I'm disconcerted when I wake up – Olivia's not in bed with me. For one petrifying moment, I think she's left me, and then I see the note.

_Alex – Don't worry, I haven't left you. Come find me when you wake up because I can guarantee you I'll still be asleep. I love you. – Olivia _

I smile and walk downstairs, expecting to see Liv tangled up in the sheets still on the couch. But the house is bare and cold and confusion ripples through my mind. I return to the second floor, and I'm still stymied as to where she could be. Then I feel the breeze.

I turn my head to the window and I can see the sleeping form of Olivia. Smiling, I open the window and clamber onto the roof. I sit next to her, resting my forearms on my knees as I watch her sleep. The morning is still a bit nippy, but the cool air feels nice against my skin.

Olivia is sleeping on her stomach. Her mouth is slightly open and her top lip ripples a little every time she exhales. The breeze pushes a strand of her hair onto her face, and I reach down to brush it away. She snorts and tries in vain to flail her limbs, but she is too tightly ensconced in the sleeping bag. Evidently, a heavy sleeper she is not.

"Wuzzat? Whozzere?" she slurs.

I chuckle. "Are you always this eloquent in the morning, Olivia?"

It's a moment before she comprehends what I've just said, but when she does, a goofy smile comes over her face. "Hey," she breathes.

"Hey, yourself." I rub my arms in an attempt to get warm. "Wanna come inside? I'm a little cold out here."

She yawns. "Sure," she says tiredly. She emerges from the sleeping bag and I help her stow it in the chest. I climb back into the house and stand rubbing my arms, waiting for her to follow. She comes up behind me and hugs me, kissing the base of my neck. I bend my head to my shoulder, reacting to the tickle of her lips.

"Sleep well?" she asks.

"Well, it would have been better if you were there. But yes, I did."

She clears her throat. "Well, I just needed some time to think." I can sense that she's nervous, but I can't imagine why.

"Think about what?"

She turns to face me, then grabs my hand and leads me down the stairs. "C'mon. We need to talk."

_Olivia_

I don't want to talk to Alex about going back to New York. I know it's going to be uncomfortable, and I don't want to seem like I'm rushing her. But I need to get it out in the open because I don't know how much time I have. I think about calling Elliot to find out, but that would only make me put it off even more.

My palms are sweaty as I lead her to the couch. I know she can sense it, and I can feel her trepidation. I feel a bit silly that I'm getting this worked up for something that may not even be an issue, but knowing Alex, it will be. Mostly I'm scared of how I'll feel, whatever her reaction is. It frightens me to the core how deeply I care for Alex, and I know that it'll be that much worse if she says no.

I sit down with her on the couch, and I take a deep breath before speaking. "Alex, I know it's hard, but what do you think about coming back to New York?"

She hesitates before answering. "I…I don't know."

My heart beats faster. "Do you even _want_ to come back?"

"Yes."

I perk up, hope blossoming in my chest. "Really?"

She nods. "Yeah, I mean I always told myself that on the off chance that Velez died, I'd be on the first flight back to New York."

"So why are you so reluctant now?"

Alex runs her hands through her hair, looking anxious. "I dunno, Liv, it just – it's hard, harder than I thought it would be. I'm afraid of what people will say, how they'll react. I don't want to have to deal with it by myself."

"Alex, you're not dealing with it by yourself." I put my hand to my chest. "_I'm_ here. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Without saying another word, she gets up and walks out of the room.

_Alex_

I know I shouldn't have walked out like that, but I can't help it. I've known I was gay for a long time, but I still haven't really come to terms with it. And I know that if I come back and suddenly Liv is hanging on everything I do and watching over me like a hawk, people will figure it out. I don't know if I want them to. Part of me wants them to, but a bigger part can only dwell on the stigma that comes with being gay. The way I was raised, a child has to fit a certain mold – go to an expensive school, get great grades, excel in college and his or her job, and marry the "right" person. I'm so scared of disappointing my family, but holding everything in is suffocating. One of these days I'm going to snap, and I'm frightened of what I might say or do.

I walk up the stairs and run onto the roof, hoping that Liv won't follow me, but knowing she probably will. I sit against the side of my house, letting the tears wend their way down my cheeks uninterrupted. I've never been one to show my emotions, but lately it seems like that's all I've been doing. I have an enormous need to get something off my chest, but for the first time in my life, I'm at a loss for words.

I jump a little when I hear a scuffle to my left; when I turn my head, I see Olivia standing at the window looking nervous. I turn my head away from her, and after a moment, I can feel her sitting next to me.

"Alex…"

"Don't."

"'Kay."

I feel bad cutting her off like that, but I need more time to think. Actually, what I really need is more time to stall. I'm not ready to face the questions I know she'll ask, so I just sit, hoping that more time will bring me courage.

_Olivia_

I'm surprised that Alex ran off, but I guess it's understandable. I know this can't be easy for her; hell, it's not easy for me, and I haven't been in hiding for two years. But I need to push it, and I hate that. I hate that I can't give her time, but I just don't have any left.

I sit for a while, trying to decide if I should run after her. I should probably give her space, but right now, I need closure. With a guilty conscience, I head up the stairs and over to the window. I look at her sitting and my heart aches – she looks so frail and insecure. For a moment, I consider going back, but my need for answers surpasses any compassion and understanding I have at this moment.

She turns to look at me when I move, and the look in her eyes frightens me. I climb on the roof when she doesn't tell me to go away.

"Alex…"

"Don't."

I'm stung by her rejection, but I'm not about to argue with her and destroy everything. "'Kay."

We both sit silently, hurting. I can feel her pain radiating from every inch of her, and it only makes mine worse. I want nothing more than to wipe away her tears and comfort her, but I can't because I know what I have to say isn't what she wants to hear, and I can't lie to her. I couldn't bear it.

"Look," I say, breaking the silence. "I know you don't want to talk right now, and frankly, neither do I. But I can't stay here forever. I can't wait for you to be ready."

"Why not?" she whispers.

"First of all, I think Elliot would start to miss me," I say, hoping she'll laugh or at least smile. She doesn't. "But seriously, Alex? I've done enough waiting. I can't tell you how much I regret not confronting you earlier. Maybe none of this would have happened."

She scoffs. "Liv, that's ridiculous. Us being together wouldn't have affected what happened at all."

"All I'm saying, Alex, is that I've done all the waiting I can do. I can't wait any longer, and unless I get some answers, I'm gone." She looks over at me sharply, her eyes filled with fear and anger. I look back, my eyes blazing. "But believe me when I tell you I don't want to lose you for the second time," I say with as much passion as I can muster.

She sighs as if she's resigning herself to an inevitable death, her entire body slumping. "I know," she murmurs. "But can we at least wait until morning? I really just need to sleep right now."

"Sure." I get up and climb back inside. Alex is right on my heels, and when she walks next to me, I grab her hand and squeeze it reassuringly. She gives me a tight-lipped smile and pulls me into her bedroom. We slide into bed together, both hungry for physical contact as we cuddle. Once again, I watch her fall asleep, but this time, I don't slip away. I simply lay there, lost in thought, hoping a new day will bring the courage I need to break down her walls.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Alex_

When I wake up, Olivia is still sleeping next to me. I smile as I watch the now-familiar rippling of her top lip as she breathes. I want to get up and make some breakfast, but I don't want to wake her up. Then my stomach rumbles. I decide that if I'm really sneaky and quiet, maybe she won't notice at all. But before I can even throw off the covers, Olivia rolls over and smiles at me.

"Going somewhere?" she whispers.

"I was thinking of making some breakfast. Sound good?"

"Hmmm," she breathes sleepily. "Lie with me for a while."

"Okay." I snuggle back under the covers, positioning myself so Olivia's chin is resting on the top of my head. She wraps her arms around me and we stay that way for a while, listening to the sounds of each other.

Olivia is the first to break the silence. "Seriously, though? Why a bunk bed?"

I laugh. "Honestly?" I look over at her and she nods. "I used to pretend that the top bed was someone protecting me. If I squished over to the wall, it was almost like I was safe, completely enclosed."

She gives me a gentle squeeze. "Someone, huh?" she says with a smirk.

"Yeah," I reply.

"And now?"

I look up and smile. "Now I don't have to pretend."

_Olivia_

Waking up to Alex is marvelous. I wake up starving, as always, but I really don't want to move at all; I don't want to leave the comfort of her. Still, I know we can't stay in bed forever and watch the world pass us by. With a kiss to the top of Alex's head and a gentle tickle to her ribs, I rouse myself from my peaceful repose and make my way downstairs. Once again, Alex makes breakfast as noisily as she can, and we sit across from each other at her table, eating in silence and staring at each other.

"Okay," I say, swallowing my bite of food. "Say the first thing that pops into your mind. Don't think at all. What's the one thing you miss most about New York?"

"You," she blurts.

I smile. "Besides me. And anyway, you don't have to miss me anymore. C'mon." I put my fork on my plate with a clatter. "Just spit it out. New York is better because Illinois is missing…"

"Friends," she says, blushing.

I smile a bittersweet smile, and inside my heart is aching. "All the more reason to come back," I say, trying to sound cheerful.

Alex looks at me with such longing in her eyes. "I know. Really, I do. But I like it here. I have a nice house with everything I want, a nice job, and –"

"No one to share it with," I interject. "Alex, you could have all this stuff in the city, too." _Plus me,_ I add in my head.

"No, I couldn't. I can't squeeze all of this into a tiny apartment. And what am I supposed to do for work? I can't go back to being the A.D.A. I mean, you guys have someone new, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. She's okay."

Alex raises her eyebrows. "_She_?"

I smile, amused at her obvious jealousy. "Yes, _she_. Casey Novak."

"What's she like?"

"She's good. But she's not you."

"Well, that's good. I'm glad there's someone who's just past competent doing my job," she says testily.

"I thought that would make you feel better," I say quietly.

"Feel better? Liv, it only makes me feel worse. It makes me want to come back and make things right."

"So come back!" I yell, rising angrily from my chair. "Jesus, Alex, why can't you just come back? Why do you have to make this so difficult?"

"Because it _is_ difficult!" she yells just as loudly. "Can you imagine what it would be like to go back and see everyone again? 'Hey guys, good to see you again. Oh yeah, I'm not really dead, just pretending. Pass the coffee, please.' Come on, Liv, you can't expect me to just drop my life and follow you."

"But it's not your life! You said so yourself. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, Alex, but how easy would it be for you to stay here forever when you know you don't have to? It's not like everyone back home is going to be mad at you."

"You were," she says pointedly.

"No, I wasn't, Alex, and you know it. I was mad at myself, okay? C'mon, Alex, you worked with us for three years, you know how the guys are. Everyone misses you, even if they won't admit it."

"I know they do, and I miss them."

"So come home with me."

"Okay," she says after a long pause. "Okay."

_Alex_

I can't believe how quickly I agree to go back. I get the feeling that Olivia can't either.

"Really?" she asks.

I nod. "Really."

"What about all your stuff?"

I dismiss it with a wave of my hand. "Leave it. The whole house belongs to the Feds. It's not really mine."

"Sure it is. You made it yours. I'm certain Agent Hammond didn't pick out this interior."

I chuckle. "No. But really, I don't need any of it. Let's just go home."

She grins radiantly. "Really?"

"Really," I say, chuckling.

_Elliot_

It's been two days since I've talked to Liv, and I'm jumping out of my skin. I need to know what's going on. I take a lunch break and step outside to call her, preferring to talk where there aren't eavesdropping ears.

The phone rings for a while, and I'm about ready to give up when someone answers.

"Hello?"

"Alex! Hey, how's it going?"

"It's going. How are you?"

"Oh, you know. I'm fine. You coming back soon?"

"Yeah, soon."

I'm shocked. "Really?"

She laughs a soft, lilting laugh. "Why does everyone say that? Yeah, really."

It's a moment before I can respond. "That's great!" I say, choking a little on my sandwich.

"Thanks." After an awkward silence, she speaks up again. "You want to talk to Liv?"

I nod, as if she can see me. "Yeah, yeah. Put her on. Can't wait to see you again."

With a faint "you, too" I hear the shuffling of the phone being passed.

"Elliot?" Liv sounds tired.

"Hey, Liv. How you doing?"

"Tired," she sighs. "But never better."

"That's great. Hey, listen, when are you coming back? Cragen's getting a little antsy."

"Well, Alex needs another day or two to sort some stuff out – you know, talk to Hammond, talk to her boss. Think that'd be okay?"

"Sure, sure. Don't worry, I'll cover for you."

"Thanks, Elliot," she says, the relief clear in her voice.

Before I hang up, I have one more question. "Hey, Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"You're really coming back? I mean, really?"

She laughs. "Yeah, El. We really are."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Olivia_

Being able to say 'we' on the phone to Elliot is exhilarating. Still, I have a feeling that things aren't going to be as easy as they have been so far. Well, relatively easy.

"So, you're gonna go see Hammond soon, right?" I ask with a casualness I do not feel.

Alex answers me with the same tone of forced lightness. "Yeah, I mean, it makes sense. I'll call him up and stop by today."

"Okay. Do you…do you want me to come with?"

"No, I think I can handle it on my own," she says dismissively.

"Okay. Do you want me to do anything around the house while you're gone?"

She looks over at me, surprised, as if she didn't think I could possibly make myself useful. "Oh! Well, I guess you could start getting stuff into boxes. You know, like, clothes and things."

"Things?"

"Yeah, you know, anything that isn't furniture."

"Oh, right. Okay."

There is an awkward pause after that, as neither of us knows what to do before Alex leaves the house. Should we hug? Should we kiss? We step toward each other, moving awkwardly, stiffly. In the end, after a few fumbling moments, I decide to give her a chaste kiss, one that a wife might give her husband as he's walking out the door to work. She surprises me by pulling me deeper into her, allowing me to get lost in her mouth.

She pulls away, and I'm left breathless. "Bye," she whispers hoarsely.

_Alex_

"So, are you ready to be Alex Cabot again?" Agent Jack Hammond is all business. His hands are clasped on his desk, and he is leaning forward in anticipation. His eyes look slightly amused, though it doesn't show anywhere else on his face.

"Well, do I have a choice?" I try to smile.

He looks puzzled. "Are you saying you don't want to go back?"

"Of course I want to go back," I sigh. "I'm just not sure if I'm ready."

Hammond leans back in his chair, thinking. "Well," he says after a pause, "I'm not saying the transition is going to be easy, because it won't be. You'll have to reacquaint yourself with the city and your friends, not to mention the therapy –"

"I'm sorry," I cut in. "Therapy? I don't do therapy."

His eyes twinkle, as if he knows exactly how his statement would affect me. "I'm sure you don't. Nevertheless, it _is_ mandatory. For at least twenty sessions." He pauses and smirks at my scoff. "But if it's worth anything," he says softly, "I've seen a lot of people try to adjust to their previous lives and most have failed miserably. But then again, I don't think they were as strong as you are."

My calm exterior crumbles for a moment, and I know Hammond can feel my anxiety. "Really?"

"Really," he says with a curt nod. "Now, I think we need to get some of the formalities out of the way. Assuming you have everything else in order, I think we can sort out the termination of your job in a few days. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure, sure. I was planning on stopping by the school after I met with you."

"Perfect. I can call your bank and transfer your money into new accounts, but I'll need to know which bank you'll be using from now on."

"I suppose the same one I had before all this happened."

"Great." He starts to get up from his chair.

"That's it?" I'm surprised to find it's so easy.

"Well, I will be getting reports from your therapist, but other than that, yes. You're free."

I look at him, and on his face I can see relief. It dawns on me that Hammond has had very little, if even any, contact with his family for two years. He's been just as estranged as I have, only he didn't have to be. Suddenly, I feel very guilty.

I stand up. "Thanks for everything, Agent Hammond."

He comes around to my side of the desk. "See you later, Ms. Brooks."

"No," I say with a smile, "you won't."

He puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. "Goodbye, Alex."

"Go home, Jack," I say sincerely.

--

Oddly enough, I'm more nervous about my encounter with Hugh than I was with Jack. I ponder this as I drive, and I come to the conclusion that of course I would feel more anxiety about talking to Hugh; he's the first person to whom I have to talk about my past, who I really am. It's not that I'm ashamed to do it, I'm just very sorry that I have to admit that my entire life in Rolling Plains, the person he's known, is a lie.

As I pull into my parking space, I think about how I'm going to break the news. I've always been a blunt person, but somehow I don't think Hugh would take it well if I was frank. Then I remember the article I have in my glove compartment. It came out the day after I was "killed", and I kept it so I wouldn't forget New York.

Walking into the school building for what is, in reality, the last time gives me a strange feeling. I'm happy to finally have the ability to go home, but I'm surprised at how quickly I find myself choking up. I know I'm attached to the people and not the actual building, but this building was my home even more than my house was. It's like I'm leaving my childhood home all over again.

I take a moment outside the principal's office to clear my head and compose myself. When I walk in the doors, I can feel the heads of all the secretaries turn to stare at me.

I head to the main secretary's desk. "Hi, Mary, is Hugh in?"

She looks at me as if she expects me to burst into tears any moment. Now I know why I always tried to avoid this place like the plague. "Of course, Katherine. You can go right on back."

Stifling an urge to correct her, I make my way to Hugh's office. With three light knocks, I push open his door.

He practically bolts out of his chair when he sees me. "Katherine! What are you doing here? You should be at home. You don't need to come back just yet."

I smile sadly. "Hugh, I'm not coming back at all." He doesn't look shocked, and I know he thinks Jack's death has put too much of a strain on me. "I know what you're thinking, and let me just say that's not the reason. At least not directly."

"What are you talking about?" he asks me, confused.

I slide the article over to him. "Read this." I look down at my lap while he reads it. It's not very long, and after a minute or two, he looks back up.

"I don't get it."

"Turn it over, Hugh," I say wearily, knowing exactly what's on the back: supplementary information about my personal life and a picture.

I see his eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, anger flashes heatedly through them. "What _is_ this, Katherine?"

"Alex," I correct softly.

"What? No. We checked you out when we hired you. Teachers have prints on file, and yours matched Katherine Brooks. Not this Alex Cabot. You're Katherine Brooks."

"No, I'm not, Hugh. My name is Alex Cabot. I was the ADA in New York when I was shot by someone connected to a Colombian drug cartel. The FBI intervened and they determined it would be safer for me to assume a new identity and enter the Witness Protection Program."

His bewilderment is growing, and I can tell all of this is foreign to him. There are no Colombian drug cartels in Rolling Plains, no drive-by shootings. For two years, that has served as a comfort as much as it has unnerved me.

"Hugh, I know this is hard for you to accept. It took me months. But I can't be here anymore. I have to go home. To New York," I clarify.

"But…but what about the kids? What will we tell them?" He is grasping at straws, desperately trying to find some way to keep me from leaving.

I sigh. "I don't know, Hugh. I'm not part of the 'we' anymore. I haven't really thought about it. But I can't tell them right now. If I write a note and drop it off, will you promise to give it to them?"

"Of course."

I stand up awkwardly. I don't want to prolong this moment anymore, but I don't know how to end it without seeming rude.

Hugh stands up and clears his throat. "Katherine, um…"

"I know, Hugh. I'll miss you, too."

With a sharp turn I'm out the door, walking briskly back to my car. When I get outside, the sun hits the tears in my eyes, and for a moment, I'm blind.

_Olivia_

I think I'm about to go crazy. I can't stand being stranded in Alex's house. I've put most of her clothes in boxes, but other than that, there really isn't much for me to do. I've spent most of the day cooking up a really good speech to make her feel guilty about leaving me alone.

Suddenly, she walks in the door, and the look on her face erases any desire to chew her out. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

She shakes her head. "No, no. It's just really hard to deal with right now."

She sits down with a defeated _oomf_ on the couch. I cautiously join her, but I keep my distance; I don't really know how to comfort her right now. What do you say to someone coming out of two years of hiding?

"Can I…can I do anything?"

She snuggles up to me as an answer, and I enfold her in my arms, hoping that if I hold her tight enough, whatever bad feelings she has will just ooze out.

After a few moments, she turns her head to look at me, and the abject grief painted all over her face makes me cringe. "Olivia, am I a horrible person for leaving?"

I sit quietly for a moment. "Me or them?"

She looks scared of my answer, as if I might actually say yes. I never would, but it still hurt to have her gone from my life for so long. I know she knows that, and it makes me feel bad.

I kiss the top of her head. "You're not a horrible person," I say fiercely. "Not at all."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Alex_

"Well, I think that's the last of the boxes," Olivia calls out from my office.

"Really?" I call back.

She saunters into my bedroom, her face covered with a thin sheen of sweat, dust billowing out of her hair with every movement. "Really. And by the way, thanks for all your help with the heavy lifting," she adds dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Moving all of three boxes must have been really hard for you," I quip just as sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah," she says with a smirk.

Over the past two days, we've packed two years of my life into three boxes. I think this is the first time I'm moving out of a house that isn't empty. I know that walking out of my house will be a disconcerting feeling; every time I look at the boxes and the furniture still left, I have the funny feeling I'm forgetting something. I know I haven't though, because I've unpacked and repacked my boxes more times than I can count.

"Come on, Alex, he's outside waiting."

I join Olivia at the door and stare at the black sedan parked outside. Agent Hammond waits for me in the driver seat, my possessions safely stowed in the trunk. I turn away and look inside one last time, closing my eyes and soaking in the feeling of leaving.

"Alex?" Olivia's hand is a gentle weight on my shoulder and her eyes are comforting when I open mine. "You okay?"

I smile bravely and nod. "Let's go."

"Okay," she nods, taking my hand. I follow her to the car, hoping that she'll take the front because for the first time in a while, I want some alone time. In true detective style, she opens the back door and doesn't follow me in. Maybe she's just used to it.

I decided not to fly back a week ago, pleading a case of airplane phobia. In truth, I'm scared to go back, and I didn't want it to be as easy as a two-hour flight. I want some time to think about what I should do and say, how I should act, how I should even begin to live.

I settle into the back seat and it surprises me by being so comfortable. _Oh well, _I think as I fall asleep, _I can start worrying later._

_Olivia_

Within minutes of driving away I can hear the soft gurgle of Alex's snoring. I stifle a laugh and sit quietly, not knowing if I should make conversation with Agent Hammond or not.

Fortunately, he saves me the trouble and decides for me. "So, you excited to be going home?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the road.

"Sure," I respond. "What about you?"

"I haven't seen my family in two years," he says with the faintest hint of bitterness. "I think that speaks for itself."

"Right," I say. Without anything more to add, I turn my attention out the window, the rushing waves of corn providing the perfect background for my thoughts to flow uninterrupted. I let my mind wander, trying not to think of Alex because that will surely make me worry. Instead, I focus on the throbbing headache I have.

_I wonder if Agent Hammond has any aspirin. Probably not, and even if he did, he couldn't exactly give it to me while he's driving. Maybe if I focus on the corn it'll go away. Whoever decided to eat corn anyway? I mean, I guess, like, nomads, or whatever probably picked it up in desperation, but who decided to cook it? Maybe it was sheer coincidence. Maybe an ear fell on the fire and some guy in a loincloth decided to eat it. But that's pretty much the history of the human race, right? We advance because some guy decided to do something different. Smart people run our society. Or stupid people, depending on how you look at it, because who puts something in their mouth right after it's been on a scalding hot fire? I remember one time when I was five and I licked fire. Too bad no huge discoveries came out of that experience; all I got was a burned tongue and a lecture from my mom. She drank too much. I always used to think that if I could somehow hide all the liquor from her, that maybe she'd change, but she never did. People don't really change. Well, that's not entirely true. I've definitely changed a little over the years. I couldn't say how, but I feel different. Isn't funny how we can feel or think something and not really know why? Like, I don't know why, but sometimes I just have this incredible urge to drop a knife in the ground and see if it sticks like you always see in cartoons. I wonder how deep that would go if you dropped it on someone's foot? I guess it depends on the height from which you dropped it. Could it permanently stick you to the ground if you dropped it from the Sears Tower or something? Can knives go through concrete? That would be quite a sight to see. Maybe if the person was placed just right, it would go through the grout in the sidewalks. But I don't know if that would be enough to stick them there. Why are things sticky anyway? Stickiness is just an annoying attribute; it only causes problems. Like what if you were driving down the road and your kid was in the passenger seat with the window open and he was licking a lollipop. And for whatever reason, he sticks his hand out the window and the lollipop goes flying out and into the open window of another car behind him, and by some freak accident, it sticks to the eyelid of someone in that car. What if it ripped off the eyelid and then the people in the second car sued the kid in the first one? Can you go to jail for that? And if so, how long? Hmm. I'll have to ask Alex._

…Shit.

_Alex_

For the better part of the first three hours of driving, I'm asleep. Oddly, it's the best sleep I've gotten in a while. The rest of the time, however, is not as peaceful. I feel clammy the entire trip, and I can't stop shaking. It's not that I'm nervous to see everyone, but then again, it is. I'm not scared about how they'll react; I'm pretty sure that with my track record, they'll be pretty happy to see me. I'm afraid of what they'll expect of me. I don't think I'm ready to be the Alex Cabot that they know and love because I'm not that Alex Cabot anymore. I've changed.

I sigh and lay down as comfortably as I can. _Built-in pillows,_ I think,_ those are next._

--

The whole trip doesn't take as long as I'd hoped it would. Olivia and Hammond took turns driving, ignoring my constant pleas to contribute. By the time we finally get to New York, it's the early morning. I barely contain my happiness as I look out the window at the dirty, smelly, lovely grunge that is New York City. What I also can't hold in are my tears. They run freely down my face, carving paths that feel as big as the Grand Canyon. They snake onto my neck and down my shirt, cooling my feverish skin.

"Alex." Olivia's voice intrudes upon my thoughts. "C'mon, we're here."

I look around in confusion. "Where is here?"

Olivia blushes. "My apartment. I thought it might be easiest considering the time."

"Oh, sure," I nod.

Hammond, Olivia, and I each take a box, each one landing with a thud on Olivia's floor. I'm not sure what to do now, and it seems that no one else is either. Hammond is shuffling nervously. I decide to address him first because I'll have all the time in the world (hopefully) with Olivia.

"Jack" – he registers my use of his first name with a sharp jerk of his head – "I just wanted to say thank you. For…everything."

He opens his mouth as if he has something to say, but instead he nods and walks out. I peer out the door and watch him walk away, then I turn to Olivia.

She smiles. "Welcome home, Alex."

I can't help it. I smile back.

_Olivia_

It amazes me that I've only been away from New York just a shade under two weeks. It feels like forever. After Hammond leaves, Alex and I get settled in my bed. I watch her sleep, stroking her hair as I forgo mine. The sun rises with glaring brightness, and its rays sneak through my blinds, lighting Alex in a radiant glow. My heart pangs as I realize just how lucky I am to have her in my life.

She stirs beneath me. "Hey, sleepyhead," I whisper.

"Hi," she mumbles back. A yawn escapes her throat and she stretches, her entire body imitating the shape of her mouth. "What time is it?"

I look over at the clock. "A bit before seven. You hungry?"

She shakes her head. "Mmm, not yet." She pauses for a moment, thinking. "You think everyone's down at the precinct yet?"

I chuckle. "Eager, huh?" She nods. "Yeah, they probably are. Wanna drop by?"

Her goofy smile is the only answer I need.

--

An hour later, Alex and I find ourselves sitting in my car, about to go inside and face everyone.

I look over at her with some trepidation. "You sure you're ready?" I ask softly.

"Uh huh," she says unsurely. Then, noticing my hesitation, she reinforces her answer. "I really am, Liv," she says, putting a soft hand on my wrist.

"Okay," I say. "Let's go."

We exit my car and begin what I imagine, for Alex, is quite possibly the longest short walk she's ever taken. Soon, we find ourselves peering into the SVU squadroom. Suddenly afraid, Alex pushes me in front of her. In a matter of nanoseconds, the guys swarm around me, asking questions and showering me with millions of 'welcome back's and 'we missed you's.

When I step away, the room goes silent immediately.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I've hit a bit of a roadblock in writing this. I know where I want to take it; it's just getting there that's the problem. But I'll try my hardest to get it done. Hope you keep reading, and if you do, that you enjoy! _

**Chapter 13**

_Elliot_

I've been going out of my mind for the past two days. Liv called and said they'd be back soon, which means nothing to me. I can't wait to see the reactions of the guys when Alex walks in. It feels kind of like when you get someone a really, really great Christmas present and you can't wait for them to open it.

Minutes after I think this, I spot Olivia out of the corner of my eye. I shoot her a look, asking where Alex is. She nods, ever so slightly, to the space behind her. Before I can get to her, Fin, Munch, and Cragen appear from nowhere and deluge her with questions and cheers of joy. I hang back, watching their faces. When Olivia steps back, their reactions are priceless.

Christmas has nothing on this.

_Cragen_

Olivia needs to get back soon. Elliot is simply a damn nuisance without her. I mean, I miss her as much as the next guy, but does he have to jump and pant like a puppy anytime someone walks through the door? It's disgusting.

I look up from my desk just in time to see him affecting that love-sick countenance, only this time it's not as pathetic because Olivia is finally back. I leave my office and walk over to her to say hi. Before I get out so much as a "How'd it go?" she steps to the side and I think I must be going crazy. I mean, yeah, Alex is alive, but now she's alive and here.

I think I need a drink.

_Munch_

The days pass by slowly without Olivia. Sure, I can still bounce my conspiracy theories and cynicism off of Elliot and Fin, but they just quash any hopes of a conversation and make me feel stupid. At least Olivia would pretend to listen.

As I'm looking at a case file on my desk, I hear a shuffle of feet. It takes a moment for my brain to comprehend what I'm seeing, but when I do, I can't help but smile. Finally, Olivia's back and I can tell her about how there are aliens all over the world masquerading as good, upstanding citizens.

I get up and make my way over to her, welcoming her back. Then she moves to the side and my face goes blank.

_Holy shit_, I think, _aliens._

_Fin_

Man, two weeks without Liv is hell. I'm getting so sick and tired of listening to Munch and Elliot. I need her back. Besides, she makes the best coffee in this whole damn joint.

To pass the time, I start tapping my pen against the pile of case files on my desk, hoping I can get a rise out of my crazy ass partner. _Whaddya know_, I think with a smirk, _it worked._ He gives me a stern look and goes back to the case on his desk.

A few moments later, I realize that Munch is staring at something in the distance. I follow his gaze and see Liv. I crack a rare smile and get up to greet her. Then she steps away and I think I must be seeing things.

"What the _fuck_?" I blurt.

_Olivia_

Fin's exclamation makes me laugh, but I hold it in because I don't think anyone would appreciate laughter at the moment. Still, I can't stand the seriousness right now.

"Hey guys," I say, trying to break the tension. "Miss me?"

No one gives me so much as a glance. They're all staring at Alex, which I guess is understandable; she's been 'dead' for two years.

"Hey guys," she says awkwardly. "Miss me?" She doesn't get a response either, but somehow this silence is different from the one they afforded me.

Elliot is the first one to move. He makes his way through the frozen bodies of Fin, Munch and Cragen and simply envelops Alex in a hug. The relief is painted all over her face as she closes her eyes and squeezes him tightly.

"Welcome back," he says sincerely, planting a light kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks," she whispers.

Elliot's action seems to have jolted the others back to reality, for no sooner has he stepped away then they are deluging Alex with questions. She holds up a hand to stop them.

"Obviously, I'm not dead," she says after taking a deep breath. "The Feds put me in Witness Protection after the Velez case. You know the woman you just collared for killing Jack Dawson?" They all nod. "He was my best friend for those two years. When he died, Elliot and Liv came to talk to me. Then Hammond called and told me that Velez was dead and Liv here was nice enough to bring me back," Alex explains, leaving out all the important parts.

Fin rounds on Elliot. "You _knew_? And you didn't tell us?" he practically yells, his eyes bulging.

Alex answers. "Fin, cool it. I asked him not to."

An uncomfortable silence follows, and I decide that maybe I should leave Alex alone with everyone.

I clear my throat. "Um, I'm just gonna go get some coffee." I think that no one is paying attention, but to my surprise Elliot breaks away from the group and walks toward me.

"I think I'll join you," he says, steering me out of the room.

Once we're out of earshot, I address him. "Elliot, don't you want to say hi to Alex?"

He shakes his head. "There'll be plenty of time to do that later. I want to know how you're doing. I figure since Alex is back, there won't be a lot of time when you're not with her, so we might as well talk now."

I give him a small smile. "Well, that's true. And I'm doing okay. It's just a lot to take in right now."

He nods understandingly. "Sure, sure. So…" he continues conspiratorially, "how are things with Alex?"

Anytime I hear her name, I crack a huge smile, and this time is no exception. "We're getting there. I think there are still some huge barriers of hers that I have to crack, but we'll be okay."

"What about your barriers?" He can see right through me.

I pretend that he can't. "What are you talking about, Elliot?"

"Oh, come on, Liv. There's no way you're the open one in this relationship. Are you willing to talk as much as you want her to?"

"Of course I am," I say, hoping he'll be fooled. "It wouldn't be fair if I wasn't."

"Uh huh," he grunts, and the knowing look in his eyes makes me sweat a little. "You just remember that."

"Right." I turn back to the squadroom, and watching Alex talk to the guys makes me smile. I watch her for a moment, my heart swelling every time she uses her hands to make a point; every time she laughs and her nose crinkles in amusement; every time she looks shyly down and I can someone's paying her a compliment she's too modest to accept.

I only realize that Elliot has left me when I see him join the group. Immediately after he smiles to Alex, she glances my way and finds my eyes, as if she's known where I was the entire time. I look right back at her, hoping she can see the love in my gaze.

When I walk back in and join everyone, it's like we're a family again.

_Alex_

After a couple of hours, everyone reluctantly returns to work, including Olivia. I sit for a while and watch her sift through cases and theorize with Elliot. At first, I can tell she knows I'm watching her, but after a while, she gets completely caught up in her cases, and that's one of the things I love about her. She is, quite simply, the most dedicated person I've ever met, and that doesn't only apply to her work. She is fiercely loyal to Elliot and the rest of the squad, and now, I think with a smile and some hope, me.

"Alex." Elliot interrupts my thoughts. "You got a sec?"

I smile. "No, Elliot, I have a million things to do," I say sarcastically.

He smiles back. "C'mon," he says with a jerk of his head, "talk to me."

I follow him out of the squadroom. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to tell you how happy I am to have you back. I didn't really get a chance to say that earlier. It just…SVU wasn't SVU without you there."

I smile sweetly, touched by Elliot's show of emotion, which I'm betting is out of character. "Somehow, I don't think that's the whole reason you wanted to talk. You could have said that anytime."

He smiles. "That's the Alex Cabot I love; always searching for the real reason. But you're right, that wasn't why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you to be patient with Liv. She means well, and I know she loves you. Just…let her come to you. Because she will eventually."

"Thanks, Elliot." I turn to go back to everyone.

"And Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't be too afraid to let her in either. It's a two-way street, and both of you can sometimes have the personality of parked cars."

I smile and nod. "I know."

He squeezes my shoulder as he walks past me, and I can't help but think that if Elliot's the one giving advice about being open, things must have changed a great deal in two years.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Alex_

"Hey, Liv?"

She stirs in my arms. "Yeah?"

"We need to spruce this place up."

"Why?"

I laugh and kiss her head. "Sweetie, I love you, but this is the most boring apartment in the world."

"You can't say that with certainty. You haven't seen _all_ the apartments in the world."

I chuckle. "I thought I was the lawyer in this relationship." When she doesn't respond, I try again. "C'mon, pleeeeeeease? All the walls are white, your carpet's ugly, and your couch is stained. Besides, it'll give me something to do while you're at work."

She takes a moment before saying anything, but I can tell she's giving in. "Okay," she relents. "Just don't make it too girly."

As she walks out the door I smile. I can't wait to get started.

_Olivia_

Leaving Alex alone in my house with buckets of paint makes me nervous, but I can't skip any more work than I already have. Still, it's not as if anyone's actually getting work done; the only thing worth thinking about right now is Alex. I can see it on everyone's faces.

Only when Casey walks in do I think that maybe we actually should be doing what they pay us to do.

"Any new developments on the Petersen case?" she asks demandingly before affecting a puzzled face. "What? Why are you all smiling so much?" Clearly she's not used to our bright and cheery faces actually being bright and cheery.

There is a sudden barrage of throats clearing awkwardly before anyone says anything.

I'm the first one to speak. "Uh, no reason. You…you wanted information on the Patterson case? Yeah, here you go." I hand her the file.

She barely glances at it. "I've already seen this, Olivia."

I shake my head, trying in vain to pay attention to Casey. "Right, right. Sorry."

Casey looks at me and I can tell she's mad, madder than she would normally be if we didn't have any new information. "What's going on, Olivia?"

Somehow, I think she knows. "Why don't you tell me, Casey?" I say just as challengingly.

Her eyes harden. "It seems Alex Cabot is back in town."

I'm surprised she found out but I don't let on. "Oh? Really? And why does that matter?"

"Well, first of all, she's supposed to be dead…"

I scoff. "Oh, come on, Casey. If you already know she's back, it's not such a stretch to imagine that she was in Witness Protection. What's 'second of all'?"

Before she answers she pauses, and in that instant I can see years of insecurities boiling behind her eyes. Her voice, however, is as icy as ever. "I'm just wondering if I'll have a job by the week's end."

"Casey," I say, and both my voice and eyes soften. "Alex wouldn't just come back and kick you out of here. Give her a little credit."

"Olivia, it was clear to me when I first got this job that you guys only thought of me as Cabot's replacement."

"Yeah, I guess we did. But that was when you first got the job. Not anymore. Don't worry, Casey. You'll be fine."

She smiles through her vulnerability, and I can't help thinking how I wish all our problems would be this easily solved.

_Alex_

Fixing up an apartment is hard work. When Liv first left, the task was a little daunting and I didn't know exactly where to start. Then I made a rough plan of what I wanted each room to look like, and it all kind of…flowed from there.

After two hours, I've got most of her furniture moved out into the main area, except for everything in the bedroom. I've decided to save that one for last because I haven't really decided what I want to do with it yet. Even without that room on my list, there's still so much I have to do.

Once I move everything out of the way, I head to the paint store. I thought about what color scheme I want to use, and I came to the conclusion that I need to blend my style with Liv's. Or rather, what I imagine her style _would_ be; dull and boring doesn't seem to suit her.

I spend quite a bit of time picking out the right shades, and I'm sure the saleswoman helping me must think I'm crazy. I'm wearing a pair of Liv's sweatpants, which are slightly too big on me, and a torn-up, ratty old shirt of mine. To top it all off, I've got so much dust in my hair I look twenty years older. Still, to her credit, she never stops helping me choose my paints.

An hour later I'm at Liv's apartment armed with about tens cans of paint and even more brushes, just in case. Even though by this time it's 12, I don't even think about eating. I'm on a kick, fueled by adrenaline and creative inspiration, and food would be a hindrance.

A few hours later, I've got the walls of the tiny hallway painted, as well as the bedroom, and I'm halfway through the living area. I've managed to get paint all over myself, and I hope a little too late that Liv isn't really that attached to this pair of pants. As I'm thinking this, I step back to admire my handiwork, and when I see it all together, it actually is pretty admirable. Especially when done by an ex-lawyer who's never painted anything in her life.

Whistling, I dip my brush in some paint and get back to work. I can't wait for Liv to get home.

_Olivia_

Though I'm not working any less than I normally would be, the thought of Alex attacking my walls is constantly in the back of my mind. I have this enormous urge to tell someone about it, even though I feel silly for worrying.

"Hey, Liv." I look up to see Elliot smiling at me. "You hungry?"

"Always," I respond, amazed as usual by his uncanny sense of timing.

We walk in silence to the deli down the street, and I get the feeling that he's waiting to speak for when we can sit and actually pay attention to each other. When we've both paid for our sandwiches, he starts to talk.

"So what's Alex doing while you're at work?" he asks between bites that no normal human mouth could ever consume.

"Actually," I say, swallowing, "she's redoing my apartment."

He chokes a little. "I'm sorry, what? Since when is she an interior decorator?"

"Since she decided my apartment was too boring."

"Well, she's right about that. It looks like the world's sorriest bachelor pad." I shoot him a look and he smiles. "I can't believe you're letting her do that," he says with a small laugh and a little half shake of his head.

"Well, not without some reservations. You should have seen her bedroom in Illinois. It looked like this bruise I got after some asswipe of a perp kicked me in the ribs."

He huffs. "Gee, if that's not symbolism I don't know what is. Let's hope you don't come home and find your walls painted pink with little red hearts all over them."

I give him the most disgusted face I possibly can.

He gets quiet and the smile disappears from his eyes. "Seriously, though, how are you guys doing?"

"We're good," I say after some hesitation. "I think right now Alex hasn't really accepted that she's back in New York with no job and close to no friends and she's fixating on my apartment as something to fill that void. I'm a little nervous to see what she'll do when she doesn't have that crutch anymore."

"Afraid to see what she'll do, or afraid to see what you'll do?"

"Well," I deliberate as I play with the salt shaker, "a little bit of both, I guess." There is a pause, and I know he's waiting for me to finish. "Or maybe mostly just what I'll do."

"Liv," he says soothingly, "there's really nothing to be afraid of here. It's just Alex, right?"

I look him square in the eye. "On the contrary, Elliot. There's everything to be afraid of here. It's Alex."

I wish he could give me more of an answer than the small, sad smile adorning his face.

_Alex_

By 9:00, Liv isn't back yet and I'm finished with the first coat of paint on every wall. I smell like paint, the whole apartment smells like paint, and I'm famished. I hope she brings back dinner because I haven't eaten all day.

Just as I plop down on the couch, I hear Liv put her key in the lock. I run to the door as quickly as I can, hoping to catch her before she opens it.

I make it in time and force the door back closed. "Wait! Close your eyes first."

She huffs in mock frustration. "Okay, they're closed."

I open the door slowly and position her so she can get the best view before I take her hands away from her eyes. "Okay, look."

She opens her eyes and just stands there. She doesn't give me any type of reaction, which is really annoying because I worked all damn day on this.

"Well? Whaddya think?" When she doesn't answer, I start explaining my ideas for the furniture. "I found this really great sand-colored shag rug (they're my favorite kind of rug), and I thought it would go nicely with the lilac walls. It should be here tomorrow, and then it'll go really nicely with the brown leather couch I found. I threw out your coffee table because, let's face it, it was atrocious, and I ordered a lovely glass, bean-shaped one to replace it. I know 'bean-shaped' might be a little weird, but it'll look really good. And then," I say as I steer her to the kitchen, "I kept these walls white because it really didn't look too bad in here, but your cabinets were filthy and grody so they had to go. I ordered some black ones to replace them and they come with these really sleek silver handles. They'll be here soon, too (I kind of pestered the poor people at Ikea, but we really need this stuff quickly). We'll worry about your fridge later." She still hasn't said anything, so I continue my nervous babble. "Your bathroom needs a new toilet, and that we won't worry about later, because really, Liv, how often do you flush that thing? Not very, by the looks of it. Otherwise, the tile's okay and we can go look for a shower curtain later. And then _this_ I didn't really know what to do with," I ramble as I shepherd her into the bedroom, "but I figured it out eventually. Your bed's too small for both of us so I ordered a new one, really nice mahogany. Again, I think the people at Ikea hate me, but oh well. I've ordered a new mattress too, which is good because yours is a rock. The navy blue bedspread and sheets will really offset these yellow walls (the color's banana, which I love because that's my favorite fruit), and I was thinking about putting a picture on the wall across from the bed, but I can't think of what it should be. So? How do you like it?" The silence is unbearable. "You're not saying anything. I knew it. You hate it. God, now I have to redo everything, and that'll take even longer, and –"

"Alex." Olivia finally speaks. "Shut up."

My first reaction is to say "Okay", but since I'm not allowed to speak I settle for a strangled "Mmm."

"C'mere." I step closer to her and she takes me by the shoulders and positions me in the center of the bedroom. She steps back and looks at me analytically, as if I'm another piece of furniture. After a few moments, she steps closer to me and stares in my eyes, still searching.

I can't hold in my curiosity anymore. "What are you doing?" No sooner have I uttered those words than Olivia grabs me in a bear hug and lifts me off the ground, kissing me fiercely. I wrap my legs around her waist and kiss her back just as passionately. She walks forward until her knees hit the bed and then we fall together on top of it. I cringe as my back slams against the concrete mattress. I push that thought to the back of my mind as I let myself get lost in the feel of her – the smell of her hair, the touch of her fingers on the small of my back. It's intoxicating, and over much too soon.

"So," I say with a wry smile, "I guess that means you like it?"

She shakes her head. "No." She gives me a short, smacking kiss. "I love it."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Olivia_

I don't know if I'll ever get used to the pleasure I get from watching Alex sleep. Sometimes I think she's a goddess. After she fell asleep last night, I stayed up a while crying. I can't ever remember being so happy and crying at the same time. Watching Alex is like watching all my faults and all the bad times in my life just drift away, flying out the window where they dissolve into the air. I can't believe how I ever lived without her in my bed, in my life.

The phone rings, interrupting my thoughts. I pick it up, glancing at the clock first. _6:15_, I think. _Just early enough to be too early to start my day_.

"Benson."

"Jeez, Liv, who pissed in your cornflakes?" Elliot teases.

I groan. "Elliot, it's not even seven. What could be so important that you had to wake me up?"

He laughs. "Yeah, like you weren't already awake. Anyway, we've got a body – 12-year-old girl, pretty mangled –"

I stop him. "Spare me the details until I've had some coffee. I'll be right there."

With one last glance at Alex, I sigh and start to get ready. That's the job for you.

_Alex_

I wake up and sigh at the sight of the empty bed. Just once, I'd like to wake up in morning _with_ Liv, just like any other mundane day. Maybe she'd make a pot of coffee, scramble my eggs the way my mother's cook never could, and we'd enjoy a few nanoseconds of breakfast before one of us was whisked away to work. Other people might not like it, but 'a rose by any other name', right?

Instead, I am left with the dregs of Olivia, her scent floating in the air, the half-eaten piece of toast flung on a plate. I huff and make my way to the sink, my inner maid kicking in.

I want to go out and do something today, but someone has to be here for all these stupid deliveries. Besides, I can't even begin to think of what I would actually do. I settle for putting on a movie to pass the time while I wait.

Fortunately, everything arrives before lunch. After a few hours of watching guys in sagging pants install everything, I'm itching to get out of the apartment. I decide that a walk is in order, and I'm halfway out the door when the phone rings.

I curse under my breath and run to get it, debating for a half second whether I even should; how would I eloquently explain myself? I decide to answer it when I realize it could be Elliot and then I wouldn't have to.

"Hello?"

"Alexandra! I thought I might find you here." Arthur Branch's gruff voice sounds from the other end of the phone, which may as well be the other end of the world right now. It's like I'm speaking with a ghost, which is funny considering he's been real for two years and I haven't.

"Hi!" I say a little too loudly and nervously. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I thought you might be free to come have a little chat with me today."

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am. When should I stop in?"

"Busy now?"

"Not in the least."

"Good, good. Come on down," he says, making me feel like I'm on _The Price is Right_, though I'm not exactly sure what I've won.

I hang up and sit before I go get changed. Alex Cabot may be back from the dead, but damned if she's gonna act like it.

--

Half an hour later and twenty minutes too soon, I find myself standing outside Arthur Branch's office. I am reminded of my last visit two years ago, right after Donovan got blown up. I wasn't even half as nervous then as I am now, and I had a pretty good feeling then that whatever Branch was going to say wasn't something I would like.

I knock lightly on his door before walking in, not bothering to wait for him to respond; he knows who's at the door.

In true Branch fashion, he is sitting at his desk with his hands clasped over his massive stomach. "Alexandra, so good to see you again. Please, have a seat."

"So good to see you, Arthur. How have you been?"

"I've been fine. I'm sure you'd say the same thing if I asked, and I'm sure nothing could be farther from the truth."

I smile. "What is it that you need, Arthur?"

"It's not just what I need, Alexandra. SVU is missing a Bureau Chief right now."

I'm puzzled. "What happened to Liz?"

"Judge Donnelly is doing just fine."

"Judge? Good for her." I'm avoiding addressing his offer because I still don't know what to make of it.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? What do you say?"

_Olivia_

"I hear Alex is back in the courthouse today."

"What?" I stare at Elliot.

"Yeah, Casey said Branch wanted to meet with her."

"Well, I hope she makes the right decision."

He looks puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"About the job," I clarify. "Knowing Alex, nothing is ever as simple as a 'yes' or a 'no'."

_Alex_

"Well? What do you say?"

I can't immediately answer because I don't know how. I can sense that Branch is getting impatient.

"I won't wait all day, Alexandra. Do you want to be the Bureau Chief or not?"

I look him in the eye. "Not."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Olivia_

I've had a hard day. Not anything out of the ordinary for a day on the job, but everything is amplified because Alex is back. I stayed at work a little later than usual, so when I got home I expected to see Alex waiting for me, but the apartment was empty.

That was an hour ago, and I'm still waiting for her.

I'm too restless to simply sit around and wait for her to come home, so I get up and walk around my apartment. It's funny, but it's like I've never lived here before. Alex did a wonderful job redecorating, but it's disconcerting to not know where things are in my own home.

From my bedroom I can hear the faint click of Alex's key turning in the lock.

"Hey, Liv." She sounds tired. Not just I-didn't-get-enough-sleep-tired, but bone-weary.

"Hey." We meet in the kitchen and I pull down an especially good bottle of wine I save for days like this one. "Need a drink?"

"Please," she says gratefully.

"So, how's Branch doing these days?" I ask as I pour her a glass.

For a moment she looks surprised and almost unwilling to answer, but she acquiesces. "He's good. Persistent, but good."

I take a sip of my wine. "You have a job?"

She looks in my eyes and nods. "Yep."

I smile a little. "Am I looking at the new SVU Bureau Chief?"

I can see a hint of amusement in her eyes though she doesn't show it on her face. "Nope."

_Alex_

**Earlier that day**

"I won't wait all day, Alexandra. Do you want to be the Bureau Chief or not?"

I look him in the eye. "Not."

He looks down for a minute. "Why not?"

"I'm not qualified enough."

He looks puzzled. "Of course you are, Alexandra. You did beautifully as the ADA."

I nod slightly. "Two years ago."

"I don't think I'm following you."

"Give Casey the Bureau Chief job. She's earned it, and it wouldn't be fair for me to just come back and take the job she's been working toward for two years. Besides, I've never been much of a politician."

"And I'm assuming you would take her position?"

"Well, seeing as you would be in the market and I'm so conveniently available, yes, I think so."

Branch smiles at me. "Eager to get back in the saddle?"

I smile back. "More than you'll ever know."

--

Liv is happy. God, is she happy.

"You're really going to be the ADA again?" She's not just happy, she's positively ecstatic.

I crack a smile; she's rubbing off on me. "Yeah, really."

"That's great! Have you told Casey yet?"

"Nope. That's on tap for tomorrow."

"Good luck. And good job."

I smile at the double entendre. With one last swig, I finish off my wine, feeling happier than I have in a long time.

--

The next day finds me making my way to Casey's office. From the hall I can hear her frustrated huffing as she packs boxes. She must be going out of her mind; I told Branch not to let her know anything.

I knock lightly on the door. "Hi, Casey."

She turns to look at me and the look in her eyes is one of pure disgust. "Come to take my job?"

I nod and look down at the floor. "Yeah, something like that," I say casually. In the pause that follows I can feel hate and resentment radiating out of her. "But I'm also here to give you your new one."

"What, am I your desk clerk now?"

I smile. "No, actually. Your office is right across the hall."

She looks extremely confused. "But…that's the Bureau Chief's office."

"Right. And now it's yours."

"But…but…" she sputters.

"Are you getting what I'm saying, Casey? Because I'm laying it on pretty thick."

She walks into the office as if it's her first time before turning to address me. "Alex, I don't know what to say. How can I ever thank you enough?"

"Try not to kill me when we butt heads, how's that?"

She grins – a big, silly, ear-to-ear grin. "Deal."

_Olivia_

I want Alex to come to the squadroom. I know she's probably catching up on cases with Casey, but I want her to be here. I want to see the looks on the guys' faces when they realize she's actually back.

From my desk I can hear the click of her heels. "Sounds like our ADA is here," I say, unable to hide my smile.

"No," Elliot responds, "that sounds like Alex."

I'm surprised that he would notice and I tell him so.

"You tend to notice things that annoy you," he says without looking up.

"Hey, guys," Alex says as she strides confidently in, briefcase in hand. "Got anything good for me?" The guys are too shocked to say anything and I don't want to ruin the moment. Still, I can't help looking over at Alex and stifling a laugh. "What, you guys didn't think I'd come back here and leave you hanging, did you? Someone has to be your babysitter."

I lean close to Elliot and whisper in his ear. "What'd I tell you?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Olivia_

"You wanna tell me what's been going on with you?" I put down my fork and look up at Alex expectantly.

She feigns confusion. "What are you talking about?"

For the past week, Alex has been moody. It's not something most other people would notice because she's good at hiding it. But I live with her and I watch her every day. I know something's wrong.

"Something is bothering you. What is it?"

Instead of looking at me, she pushes her food around on her plate. "I need to call my mother sometime soon."

I look at her like she's crazy. "You mean you haven't already? She doesn't know you're alive?"

She shakes her head. "She probably knows, she's probably heard about it. But no, I haven't talked to her yet."

"Why not?"

She looks as uncomfortable as I've ever seen her. "We had a…falling out before, you know. I haven't spoken to her since then. Truth be told, I don't really want to. At least not alone," she says, looking at me and hinting greatly with her eyes.

I smile. "Alex, I'm here for everything. Come on, I'll sit right next to you."

_Alex_

I do not want to talk to my mother. I do not want to talk to my mother alone. I do not want to talk to my mother with Olivia by my side. Once I get the courage, I'll tell Olivia and then we can go to bed. Of course, that will be _after_ I talk to my mother.

Olivia and I sit on either side of the phone. She pats me on my knee and urges me to get it over with. I sigh and start dialing.

While I'm listening to it ring, I slip into a clinical state, as if detaching myself from the process will make it easier. The cold sweat on my hands and neck tells me otherwise.

"Hello?" A familiar voice makes me smile.

"Hi, Connie. Is…is Mother available?"

There is a long pause. "Who is this?" she asks suspiciously.

I sigh; I should have expected this. "It's Alexandra."

"Sorry, that's not possible. Alexandra died two years ago." I can picture her disbelieving face; it's one I saw many times as a child.

I try to think of some way I can prove it's really me. "When I was little, my favorite thing to eat was a cheese and mayonnaise sandwich. Mother thought they were disgusting, so when she was out of the house, we'd sit on the kitchen floor and eat them as we played cards."

"I'll get her right away," Connie says, her voice thick with tears.

During the following moments of silence I grab Olivia's hand, eager to know that there is at least someone who loves me for who I am.

"Hello?" Mother sounds exactly the same.

I pause, still wanting to run as fast as I can from the phone but knowing I can't. "Hello, Mother."

I can imagine my mother losing her composure a bit now, or at least I think I can. With Mother, all maternal tendencies were figments of my imagination.

"I thought you died," she says coldly.

"Um, well, no, but it's a long story. Can we talk about it over lunch?"

"Don't say 'um', Alexandra, it is not a phrase that suits a lady. Come by tomorrow." Without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'I've missed you' she hangs up.

Tomorrow should be fun.

--

After leaving Liv at the precinct, I find myself being led out of the car by my mother's chauffeur. In an instant, I am right back where it all started – the oppression and suppression of my being. Mother would call me melodramatic, but even lawyers have to act sometimes.

Connie opens the door and were it not for the fact that my mother is watching, I'm certain she would hug me. Instead, she smiles sincerely and directs me to the drawing room.

"Good to see you, Alexandra," my mother says without a hint of a smile. I return the sentiment just as warmly. "I hope you've been doing well."

I feel anger start to rise in me. No, I haven't been doing well. "About as well as expected, Mother."

"That's nice," she says dismissively. "Have you settled down yet, found a husband?"

I sigh and groan inwardly. "Mother, we've had this discussion before…"

"I see." She cuts me off. "You're still going through your little…phase."

"It's not a phase, Mother, I'm gay. It's not going to change." I want to yell at her, finally let go countless years of insecurities and rage. But I can't. She still intimidates me.

"I don't believe you."

I huff. "Believe what you want, Mother. I didn't come here to change your mind. I came to tell you that I've been in Witness Protection for two years and I've missed you. I thought you might say the same thing. But I guess I forgot how self-serving you are. I'm leaving now, unless you have something to say that will change my mind."

If I were to squint as I walk out the door, I could almost pretend there were tears in her eyes.

_Olivia_

"So, how was seeing your mother again?" I ask as Alex walks through the door.

She can only huff in frustration as a response.

"That bad, huh?" She nods. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," she says shortly. "Just leave it alone."

"Leave it alone, or leave you alone?"

"I don't know, Liv," she says wearily. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Alex, when are you going to realize that I'm not the bad guy? I want to help you through this."

"This is something I need to work out on my own, Olivia. You just wouldn't understand."

"Then help me to understand!" I yell. "Jeez, Alex, I _want_ to help you. What has got you so worked up?"

"My mother." _No shit, Sherlock,_ I think. "We don't get along."

"Why?"

"She doesn't accept my…lifestyle."

"You mean the fact that you're gay?" She cringes. "What, are you afraid of that word?"

"No," she says unconvincingly.

"Alex, I don't think is really about your mother."

"Of course it is, Olivia. She's the one who can't accept me."

"Oh, bullshit, Alex," I retort. "I don't think _you_ can accept yourself either."

"Yes I can," she says indignantly. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

"Yeah, secretly. No one else knows except for Elliot. It's killing me that we can't be comfortable around people."

"I'm just not ready," she says.

"Fine. Call me when you are." I grab my keys, tears welling in my eyes.

Without looking back, I head out the door.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_Elliot_

"Who is it?" I call out from behind my door. I have good guess as to who it might be, but I still ask. I'm a cop.

"It's me. Let me in," Olivia says quietly.

I open the door and step aside as she walks in, defeated. "You wanna talk about it?" She shakes her head silently. "Okay, well you can stay as long as you want. Come to me any time if you need to talk."

"Thanks, El." She makes her way to the couch and just plops down.

"Do you want a blanket, or maybe a shirt to sleep in?" I know there's probably nothing I could do that would make her feel better, but I still feel like I should try.

Her 'no' is almost inaudible. With one last look at her forlorn shape slumped on the couch, I walk to my room, wondering if she'll get any sleep tonight.

_Olivia_

I can't sleep without Alex, but right now, I can't sleep _with_ Alex either. I can't stand that she's so secretive about all of this. I've never been one to hide anything, and I certainly don't want to hide this. I know, I know, I never actually told any of the guys about my proclivities, but if they had asked, I would have. I know Elliot wondered, and everyone else probably did as well, but they never voiced their questions. If they had, I would have given them answers.

I want to give them answers now, but I can't without Alex. It just wouldn't be fair. It's not fair to her if I tell everyone without her consent because that would undermine our entire relationship. But it's not fair to me that she's not at least a little less secretive, if not completely open, and so I can't be around her, waiting in silence. I might say something that I regret and make everything a lot worse.

If I can't do everything with her, I'd rather do nothing without her.

_Alex_

I can't believe what an idiot I am. Things were going so great, and then I blew it. I want to kick myself and go crawling back to her, apologizing and swearing that I'll change. But I can't. I can apologize, but I can't say that I'll change because I don't know if I can. It's not as easy as Liv thinks; how the hell am I supposed to wipe away twenty-odd years of insecurities just like that?

What I really need right now is someone to talk to. I can't talk to Liv, and anyone else would require some explaining. There's only one person left to call, and I suspect it's the first person Liv would run to as well.

"Hello, Elliot?...Yeah, hi, it's me. Is Liv there?...No, no I don't want to talk to her, I just wanted to make sure. Is she sleeping?...Yeah, me either. Anyway, um, I was wondering…could you maybe come down here? I kind of need some help."

--

Half an hour later, Elliot and I are sitting on the new couch awkwardly; neither one of us knows where to begin.

"You did a nice job with this place," he says feebly.

"Oh, thanks. I guess it needed to be done."

The awkward pause is even more pronounced. "This couch is really comfy," he says inanely.

I grunt my agreement. I decide that if I'm going to open up to Elliot, it has to be now, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.

I clear my throat. "Elliot, I –"

He cuts me off, and a part of me is glad for the interruption. "Look, Alex, to be honest, I don't really need to know the details of whatever happened. It's not really my place, even if you want to tell me. I only really came here to tell you that you need to go to Liv, not the other way around. I know that I told you to let her come to you, but something's different about this time. When she walked in my door, she was completely defeated. I got the feeling that it wasn't so much about something she had done wrong as it was that something had happened that she couldn't fix. I gotta tell you, Alex, Olivia fixes things. We all do; we're cops. It's our job. So when something comes along that she can't fix, it tears her up inside. Right now, she's about as miserable as I've ever seen her."

I start to protest. "But –"

He stops me before I can even start. "Alex, I'm not blaming you. I'm not saying this is all your fault, even though it could be. I don't know, and honestly, I don't care. All I'm saying is that _you_ have the power to fix this because I don't think Liv can. I'm just saying that I don't like to see two of my friends hurting this badly."

I can only nod as I follow him to the door.

He squeezes my shoulder gently as he stands in the doorway. "I know you guys can work this out, Alex."

"Thanks, Elliot," I mumble.

When he walks out the door I feel crummier than I did when he came over.

_Olivia_

For the third day in a row, I wake up on Elliot's stiff couch. I take a shower and change into the last outfit I have that can be made of clothes I haven't already worn. For the third day in a row, I wake up feeling more miserable than I did the day before. For the third day in a row, and the first time in forever, I wake up not wanting to go to work.

Work has become unbearable. It's even worse than when Alex wasn't here because now she is and I still can't have her. Each day passes with us interacting cordially and nothing more, most of the time trying as hard as we can not to look at each other for too long.

It doesn't work, at least not for me. I can't help but use every second I can spare looking at her, wondering how someone growing up in a relatively normal household can have such messed up self-esteem. I'm probably not helping right now either, but this isn't something I can give to Alex; she has to get it for herself.

But good God, how I wish I could.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_Alex_

The days pass by slowly without Olivia. One turns into three, three to five, and five to I'm not sure. Work has become a nightmare. We rarely speak; most of the time, Elliot is our liaison, even if we're in the same room. I'm surprised he's putting up with it. He's cornered each of us at one point or another, trying to propel us to resolve this. The fact that he is tells me that Liv hasn't shared anything with him. As much as it hurts me to admit this, nothing but time and a little bit of humility from me can make this go away.

But with each passing day, I lose my conviction. I burrow further and further into myself, hiding in the deep recesses of my mind where I am queen and no one can challenge me. There, no guilty voice says 'You're the only one who can fix this'; there, I am free.

But I'm also lonely. It gets quiet in my little hole. There, I have no reason to cry or be sad, but nor do I have a reason to laugh. I haven't laughed, even smiled, in days. I have thought, and cried, and felt sorry for myself, and through all of it, I have felt like the world's biggest jackass.

I can't take it anymore. When I get home, I'm ending this, one way or another.

_Elliot_

"Hey, Liv?"

"Hmm?" Even though it's quiet because she's in a different room, her voice still sounds smaller than normal.

I walk into the living and face the back of her dejected body. Even in this position she is hostile and defensive; if she was a cat, her fur would be raised.

"Can we please, please talk about this?" I'm reneging on my earlier position of disinterest. The past seven or eight days, or however long it's been, have been hell. I can't take the silence, and if I'm being honest, I was a little reluctant to get involved because it was Alex who needed my help. Not that I don't care about her, but we're not really that close. I meant everything I said, but a part of it was that it was Alex.

But this is Liv. This is something completely different, and even if she says no, I'm pushing it.

"Okay." She sits up and rests her wrists on her knees, her back slouched as much as possible. I take a seat next to her, feeling a lot like a shrink.

"What happened?"

"Alex shut me out. She went to visit her mother and came back reserved and insecure. She said that it was just because her mother doesn't accept her, but that's not the real reason. She won't admit it, but she's still scared of herself, of being gay."

"So what did you do?" I gently pry.

"I walked out," she says simply. "I looked her in the eye, told her to call me when she was ready, and never looked back."

"Wow." It's all I can say after a long pause.

She turns to look at me and I've never seen her eyes so dejected. "She hasn't called me yet, Elliot. She hasn't even reached out to me. Why hasn't she called me?" Her voice remains steady, but tears have begun to leak out.

I put a hand on her back and start to rub in gentle circles. "Liv, she's not going to leave you. Where's she gonna go, huh? Here? I'd kick her back to your place," I say, leaning my head close to hers and hoping she'll laugh a little through her tears. She does, sniffling, and I press on.

"I know it's probably one of the hardest things you've done, but you just need to wait for her. You're doing the right thing here, because you can only push someone so far before they completely destroy themselves. You need to break her down, not destroy her, and if you leave her alone for a while to figure out that you're right, you'll get that chance."

"I know," she murmurs. "But does it have to destroy _me_ in the process?" she wails, crumbling in my arms. Her body racks with sobs as she cries hysterically, and I can't help a tear from falling.

_Please, Alex_, I think, _please fix this_.

_Alex_

I've spent the better part of two hours trying to figure out what to say in a letter that would make Olivia want to talk to me. So far I've got "Dear Liv." For a previous English teacher, it's a pretty sorry attempt. But words are failing me now because they don't seem adequate. Or maybe I just can't find the right ones.

I give up on trying and decide to simply feel. I write my heart in words, hoping that Liv will understand its meaning. Funny how once I let go of my inhibitions, everything seems easier.

Oh, the irony.

_Olivia_

I feel better after talking with Elliot. I hate that he had to see me cry like that, but it made me feel a lot better.

After I've calmed down, Elliot gets up and starts to walk away. I stop him before he gets so far that I have to get up and follow him. I'm too drained to move.

"Hey, Elliot?"

He turns around so fast I almost miss it. "Yeah?"

"Could you maybe camp out here tonight? I don't really want to be alone right now."

Even though I can't see his face, I know he's smiling. He must be doing a little happy dance in his head because he loves it when I actually show my vulnerability. He says that it reaffirms that I'm actually human, but I know better. I'm not human, I'm Super Olivia. Even if I don't feel like it inside, I act like it because I have my entire life. It gets tiring, but it's the only way I know how to be.

Elliot disappears for a moment and returns with a sleeping bag, blanket and pillow. We wish each other good night, and I fall asleep feeling a little comforted. Super Olivia may be on her way back.

--

The next day I wake up early. Elliot is positively knocked out – the drool seeping into his pillow tells me that he is quite the heavy sleeper. I step out the door for a little fresh air. I can still see the moon in the sky, but the sky is bright and hopeful. My foot brushes up what I think is the morning paper, but when I look down, I see an envelope with my name on it.

When I open it up and read the letter inside, I start to cry.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Two more chapters. Get excited._

**Chapter 20**

_Olivia_

_Dear Liv,_

_I've been around a lot of people who've tried to console me,_

_looking at me with their big eyes and pained faces,_

_looking sad,_

_pretending to care._

_I've been around a lot of people who've tried to make me glow_

_by transferring to me a sliver of their shining aura of confidence._

_While I would shimmer for a moment,_

_it quickly faded the next time the sky darkened._

_And then I met you._

_You told me to find comfort from within._

_That the only one able enough to make a change_

_was the one who wanted it so badly to begin with._

_I lined you up next to my shining nobodies_

_and I watched them pale in comparison._

_Please, please come home. You're right, I'm wrong, and I can't tell you how much I mean it. I know that doesn't make everything okay again, but please come home so we can try. I love you so much._

Without a second thought, I grab my keys and speed off.

_Alex_

I didn't sleep at all last night. I was going out of my mind waiting for Liv, wondering why, five minutes after I dropped off the letter, she hadn't shown up. I kept telling myself that she was sleeping and not to worry, but I couldn't help it. Instead, I spent the night pacing around the apartment, wringing my hands, trying in vain to focus on countless movies and books, but nothing worked. Nothing will soothe me until I hear Liv come through the door.

"Hey."

I turn sharply at the sound of Olivia's voice. "How long have you been there?"

"I just got here." I'm surprised that I didn't hear her; I'd thought I was the picture of vigilance. "I was sneaky," she adds.

"Oh," I nod. "Okay. So, um, how have you been?"

"How do you think?" she says, her tone biting. I blush, and she corrects herself. "I'm sorry, Alex, that was rude –"

"No, no, it was my fault. That was a stupid question. I just…don't really know how to do this," I admit.

"I don't either, Alex. I just want to know why you're so afraid."

I sigh. "It's like, all my life, I've been expected to fit a certain mold – be a good student, excel at everything, get a good job, and marry the right person. The pressure is unbelievable. And I really hate to disappoint anyone."

"Alex, you can't please everyone all of the time. You're going to have to make hard decisions."

"I know, I know. I just hate facing the consequences. I hate conflict."

"Which is why you surround yourself with it every day," she quips sarcastically.

I take a moment to think. "Actually, yeah. I mean if you think about it, I get to solve problems. I have no problem doing that. I like fixing things. I just don't like that there are things that need fixing. It's the time in between the breaking and the fixing that I don't like."

"Alex, it's great that you're telling me this, but I don't think this really has anything to do with why us."

"I know," I say with dread in my heart. I'd rather be doing anything else than opening up to Olivia. "Look, I had this girlfriend once, Michelle. I really, really liked her. She was at my house almost every day, and it was probably one of the happiest times of my life. But then my mom walked in on us…fooling around. She threw Michelle out of my house, told her to never come back, and then she called Michelle's parents and verbally abused them for forty-five minutes, saying that Michelle was corrupting me, that she was a horrible girl, and if she ever came near me again, my mother would call the police. And then she turned to me and I expected a huge tirade. But she just looked at me and said 'I'm very disappointed in you, Alexandra.' Then she turned and walked away, and I don't think she's smiled at me since. It crushed me. I'd spent every waking moment trying to win my mother's approval, and just like that, she dismissed me. After that, I tried so hard to make her like me again, but nothing worked. Eventually I just got fed up and told her that I didn't care, that I was gay and it wasn't going to change. I thought that maybe if she understood that, she'd be okay with it. But she wasn't. She just said it was a 'phase' I was going through, and from then on she kept asking me if I'd met any nice boys. I just learned to tune her out. I figured that if I ignored her, her words wouldn't matter."

"But they still did, didn't they?" Olivia knows. She can see right through me, and it terrifies me.

"Fuck yeah, they still did. And they started to get to me. I started wondering if I was as much of a freak as she made me out to be. I became ashamed of myself. I kind of isolated myself from everyone – all my friends, anyone who tried to be nice to me. Once I was alone, I became that disappointment, that failure that my mother saw. I never really let it go."

"And what about me?" Olivia asks, her voice full of tears. "Am I enough to make you want to let it go?"

I look at her, matching the pain I see in her eyes. "Of course you are," I whisper hoarsely. "I just…I'm so afraid of hurting you, of making you suffer like Michelle did. I don't want to – I can't – lose you."

"And what would you do if you did, hmm? Go find a guy to appease your mother? I know what it's like to have a mother who thinks you're worthless, okay? My mother was a drunk and a liar. She never valued me at all, and I still tried to make her happy. But eventually you just have to give up, and I did. I know it hurts, believe me, I know, but it'll hurt so much more if you keep living like this."

"I know. But it feels a lot easier right now. I don't want to be 'Alex Cabot, the gay lawyer.' I just want to be Alex."

She steps closer to me and clasps both my hands in both of hers, resting her forehead on mine. "You can be 'just Alex' and still be gay, you know. You wanna know what gay is, Alex? Gay is me loving you, you loving me. Gay is us, gay is being happy. Is that so wrong? Yeah, you're gay. But gay is not you, okay? You're not 'Alex, the gay lawyer' – you're Alex: the lawyer, the friend, the lover," she kisses me tenderly on the lips, "Alex the person who happens to be gay."

_Olivia_

There is a moment of silence and I can almost see her mind trying furiously to reconcile my words with years of insecurities.

"Alex the person," she says quietly.

"Alex the person," I repeat.

"Who just happens to be gay."

"Yeah," I whisper. "Pure coincidence."

When she looks at me I can see hope and serenity. Fear is still lurking, but it doesn't dominate anymore.

I couldn't be any happier.

She licks her lips and, trembling, brings them to meet mine. We kiss, and it is the most tender, purest kiss I have ever experienced. We have never needed each other more than we do now.

As we kiss and touch, I allow myself to let go and to simply be. I let loose the flood of tears and Alex and I cry together for separate reasons. We glide together to the bed and fall together, and for the first time we are together as we make gentle, desperate, fierce love.

For the first time in years, when I dream, I dream of reality.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: This is really the end of the story, but I wrote a little epilogue dealy just to really tie up loose ends._

**Chapter 21**

_Olivia_

The next day finds me waking up to a cold bed. It doesn't bother me; after last night, I can understand if Alex needs some time to be alone. _It also doesn't hurt to know that she couldn't possibly leave after what we did last night_, I think with a smirk.

I get up with a yawn and a stretch. It pleases me to the core the domesticity which has so naturally woven its way into our relationship. It seems like I've been waiting all of my life for this; I was made to wake up with Alex, live with Alex, love with Alex.

The phone ringing jars me out of my thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Well, you sound decidedly more chipper than you have these past few days. You guys work everything out?" Elliot asks.

"For the most part, yeah."

"That's great, that really is, Liv," Elliot says sincerely. "Anyway, I'm in the car right now. I thought it might be nice if I picked you up. We could talk."

I don't know if he thinks I've done a complete 180, but just because I sobbed into his shoulder a few nights ago doesn't mean I'm about to tell him everything. This is just one thing that I don't need share with anyone. "It's okay, Elliot. I can manage myself. But thanks anyway." I let him down gently.

"Well, I'm kind of already in front of your building, so why don't you just come down?"

"Okaaay," I say suspiciously. "I'm on my way."

"Great," he says as he hangs up.

I make a few calls to ensure that my little surprise for Alex is still underway, then I grab my keys and hustle out the door.

_Elliot_

I know Liv is really suspicious right now, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to help Alex with her little surprise. I'm a bit of a romantic at heart, and it's not every day that I get to play matchmaker.

About three minutes after I hang up, I see Olivia come out of her building. She smiles as she opens the door. It's a wonderful sight; I haven't seen a smile that genuine in two years.

"How are you doing?" I ask as I start the car.

She smiles teasingly at me. "I'm doing fine, but you're not getting anything other than that. My personal life is of no concern to you."

I waggle my eyebrows. "That good, huh?" I smirk at her as my phone rings.

"Stabler."

"How's the weather?" Alex asks stealthily.

"The weather's clear over here. What about you?"

"Rain clouds may cause a delay."

_What the __**fuck**__ is she talking about? _I think. _Goddamn codes. Why can't she just say what she means? Whatever. I'll wing it._ "Uh, okay. Call me when it's sunny," I reply, having no idea what I just said. It seems to work, however, because she says something that isn't an admonishment (beyond that, I have no idea what it is), and hangs up.

Olivia looks at me like I've lost my mind. "What was that all about?" She probably thinks that was the weirdest one-sided phone call she's ever heard. The funny part is that I'm not sure being able to hear both sides would make it any more understandable.

I look over at her. "Want some doughnuts?"

_Alex_

Operation Win Olivia's Heart is underway. Private Stabler is working in the field under the command of Commander Cabot. I call him to check on the progress he's made on attaining the subject.

"Stabler."

"How's the weather?" I ask as stealthily as I can.

"The weather's clear over here. What about you?"

I need more time. _Okay, Alex,_ I think quickly, _what relates to weather and time? What makes you late? Weather and time…Aha!_ "Rain clouds may cause a delay," I respond, priding myself on my innovation. Codes are so cool.

"Uh, okay, call me when it's sunny." Clearly Elliot got the gist of my message, further boosting my ego.

"Affirmative. When the clouds clear away," I reply.

Suddenly, I have a huge urge to bark out orders and sneak around a forest playing paintball.

_Olivia_

Something is definitely going on. Elliot does not just drive to my apartment, pick me up, and take me for doughnuts on a whim. What could possibly compel him to act this strangely?

Suddenly, realization hits me. "What's Alex up to?" I ask casually.

"How should I know?" he replies unconvincingly. "You're the one living with her."

I smile inwardly. Elliot is such a bad liar and I know how to push his buttons. "Well, it's just I woke up today and she wasn't at home…" I trail off, expecting him to pry.

He does. "I thought you guys were good."

"We are," I say between bites of my doughnut. "I mean, I am. I thought Alex was, but now…"

Concern has crept its way into his eyes. Oh, the satisfaction I am getting from this! "Now what?" he asks.

"I'm just worried about her, that's all."

He smiles confidently at me. "Liv, she's fine. In fact, she's in her office right now."

"Really? How do you know?" I can't keep the snide smile off my face.

He blushes as he tries to cover up his mistake. "Uh, well, what I meant was she's _probably_ at her office, because I have no way of knowing exactly where she is. Ever. For any reason at all."

I laugh at him as I grab my coat. "God, Elliot, you're so pathetic sometimes. C'mon, let's go to work."

_Elliot_

As Liv and I walk to the car, I am silently berating myself for being so gullible. I pretty much just spilled the beans. I have an almost irrepressible urge to call Alex, but I know if I do, it'll tip Liv off even more.

Fortunately, she calls me first.

"Stabler."

"The eagle flies at midnight," she whispers.

Okay, I'm done with this code stuff. That one didn't even have anything to do with the weather. "I'm sorry, what?" I blurt.

"I don't know, Elliot, isn't that what you're supposed to say when everything's ready to go?"

"Oh yeah, like I would really know that," I say sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get her here; it's all set up."

"Yeah, sure. Tweet tweet, right?"

Alex lets out a disgusted 'ugh!' before she hangs up. I smile; I may have let our cover slip a little, but at least I don't sound like an idiot.

_Alex_

Half an hour after I hang up with Elliot, I find myself waiting very impatiently for Liv to knock on my door. With every passing minute, I worry that Elliot forgot to tell her to come here right at 9:00. At 9:02, I can barely stand the wait. Thirty seconds later, I'm about to pee myself from anticipation.

Mercifully, a knock on the door stops my bladder from exploding. "It's me," Olivia trills. "What have you two been cooking up?" She pauses. "Actually, something smells delicious. What _have_ you been cooking?"

I smile as I open the door. "I thought you might like some breakfast," I say as she walks in.

"And a little atmosphere to go with it, right?" she says jokingly.

I blush as her gaze sweeps the candles that litter my bookcases and desk and the blanket I threw quickly on my floor. "I thought it'd be nice."

She smiles reassuringly at me. "Alex, it's probably the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me," she says with tears in her eyes, which she immediately tries to repress. "God, look at me," she scoffs. "Not even two minutes in here and I'm already about to lose it."

I laugh lightly. "C'mon." I pat the blanket as I sit down. "Sit with me."

She sits across from me and we eat in silence for a moment, though our eyes never lose contact. I could get lost in those eyes of hers all day.

"This is nice," she blithely comments. "But why did you decide to have a picnic in your office?"

I smile. "Because I can turn anyone who knocks at my door away. I couldn't really do that in a restaurant."

"And what would you tell them?" she jokes. "That you've decided to cook up the dream date for your girlfriend?"

"Maybe," I say nonchalantly.

She's surprised and her face shows it. "Really?"

"No," I admit after a moment's hesitation. "But I'm getting there."

She smiles, and I reach over the food and take her hand in mine, stroking her soft skin with my thumb. "Olivia, I…I just wanted to say thank you so much for what you've done for me."

She looks truly puzzled. How does she not know what an amazing person she is? Maybe that's what makes her amazing. "What do you mean?" she asks.

I look her in the eyes and try to put as much feeling into my words as I possibly can. "When you first came to Illinois, I was so confused – were you there for me, or did you only care about catching Jack's killer? I thought that it was impossible for you not to have feelings for me because of how deeply mine ran for you. But I'd gotten myself in a rut, a really deep one, over the years, and I couldn't reconcile how I felt about you with how I thought I was supposed to feel. That night, when we had dinner after the lake, I wanted to tell you everything – how I felt about you, how scared I was of it, how much it really hurt that Jack was dead. We talked a lot about being gay. He kept telling me that if I ever got a chance to see you again, that I should take advantage of it. 'Just take a huge fucking leap of faith, Kath, because you never know who'll be there to catch you.' And then you came back and I didn't. But you did, and I don't know if I've ever felt happier in my life. And yet I still wasn't fixed." I find that I can't look at her anymore as tears catch in my throat. "My insecurities were still there, big as ever, and I couldn't get rid of them. When you left that night, I…I don't think I'd ever felt crummier in my life. I thought I'd lost you for good. I thought I'd never get a chance to explain myself. And then you, with your wonderful, beautiful way of being, you came back and listened. You've given me so much, Olivia. You gave me the freedom to finally be myself. I thought that maybe it was time to give something back," I finish somewhat lamely.

I finally bring my gaze to hers and I see matching tears winding their way down her beautiful face. I smile through my misty eyes as she leans over and rewards me with one of her amazing, get-your-pulse-racing kisses.

"Mmm, how am I ever going to repay you for that?" I ask as we break apart.

She laughs. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way," she says, her eyes twinkling.

Suddenly, the alarm on her watch beeps. 9:30. I find it amazing that in the short span of half an hour, my life has completely changed.

She looks down at her watch, cursing. "Listen, I have to get down to the precinct," she says as she stands up and plants a kiss on my forehead. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it is."

She grins radiantly. "Great." She turns to walk out the door but pauses. "Hey, don't stray too far from your office today, okay?"

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

She smiles secretively. "Let's just say you may have something to repay me for later."

_Olivia_

As I walk out of Alex's office, I have to repress the urge to skip. I feel giddy. I can't believe that it's possible to be this happy and not explode. Maybe I will later.

The happiness hasn't worn off by the time I get to the squadroom, and I have a feeling that it won't for a while.

Before I even glance at the cases on my desk, I swat Elliot playfully on his shoulder. "You are one sneaky man, Elliot Stabler."

He smiles. "Have a good time?"

"The best," I say. "Thanks a lot."

He shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a softie."

I smile and turn to my work. Soon I'll be the one doing the surprising. I can't wait to see Alex's reaction.

--

Three hours later, I haven't eaten lunch nor have I heard from Alex. My patience is starting to wane. Everyone has asked me at least once why I'm so jittery. They all stopped asking after two or three times, however, because of my extreme need to punch the next person who asks me that. I think they can sense it.

I'm trying to repress that urge, but if I don't see Alex soon, my fist is gonna meet someone's face.

_Alex_

After Olivia leaves, I spend the next three hours waiting impatiently for whatever it is she's got planned. I breeze through cases, not really paying attention to what they say. I'm subconsciously expecting a distraction.

It comes knocking around one. "Are you Alex Cabot?" _A bunch of walking flowers is talking to me_, I think. Then I realize that I probably just can't see the delivery man.

"Yeah, here, I'll take those," I say, reaching for the bouquet.

I put them on my desk. "I also have this for you," he says, handing me a package.

I look down at it, puzzled. "Thank you," I say with a smile.

I read the note in the flowers first. _You are an amazing person, Alex. Don't ever forget that. _If Liv were here now, I'd tell her that _she_ was the amazing one.

The package is a little bigger than a book, and it has a note attached to it as well. _Remember how you wanted something for the wall in our bedroom? I thought this might do the job perfectly._

I tear open the plain brown wrapping and my heart melts when I see what it holds.

It is the letter I wrote to her, begging her to come back, and it is framed.

_Olivia_

At about 1:15, my head snaps up and for a moment, I'm not entirely sure why. Then I recognize the click of Alex's heels. She comes in the squadroom almost sprinting. Cragen starts to walk toward her, wanting to talk shop, but she completely ignores him as she heads straight for my desk.

Inside, I am jumping for joy.

I barely have time to get out a "How'd you like it?" before her lips cover mine as she kisses me fiercely. I am surprised for a moment before I respond in kind. That we're in the squadroom is pushed to the farthest corner of my mind. I can only focus on the fact that I can't catch my breath, that my heart is pounding, and how much I love Alex.

We break apart and I'm still stunned; I keep my eyes closed I don't move until I hear Fin's voice.

"I told ya, Munch. You owe me fifty bucks."

My eyes snap open and find Fin's face. "You guys bet on us?" I ask incredulously.

He scoffs. "Oh, come on, Liv, you didn't think we didn't know, did you? Jeez, up until just now you just about broke into tears when Cabot walked in the room. We're not stupid," he says, unable to hide a smile.

"No," I acquiesce. "Just sneaky."

Suddenly, everyone is grinning. Elliot starts laughing, and soon enough, we're all rolling around in our seats with tears streaming down our faces.

This is exactly how life should be.

--

The rest of the day goes by quickly, and honestly, I can't remember a single moment of it. All the guys are poking fun at me, but it's all light-hearted, and I smile along with them.

At the end of the day, I look up to see Alex standing, watching me at my desk.

"Hey," she says with a big, silly grin on her face. "Ready to go home?"

I get up and turn off the light at my desk. "Definitely," I reply. She adjusts her shoulder bag and takes my hand as we walk out the door.

Home.

I like the sound of that.


	22. Epilogue: Alex's Letter

_A/N: Well, here you have it. 35,421 words, 22 chapters, 92 pages, and 41 days later, my story is finished. Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful reviews. It made me feel like a lot less of a dork . Anyway, I'm pretty proud of this, so shower me with compliments. Or not. Oh, and if you forgot, Hugh Collins is the principal at the school where Alex used to work. I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. _

**Epilogue: Alex's Letter**

_Hugh Collins_

Two months after Katherine, er, _Alex_ left, I got a letter in the mail. It surprised me with its weight; any heftier and it probably would have required another stamp or two. I put it aside until the end of the day when my secretary noticed it.

"What's that?" Mary asked, pointing.

"Hmm? Oh, just a letter I haven't opened yet."

"Well, who's it from?"

I finally looked at the return address. "Some…some law office in New York. It doesn't make any sense."

Mary looked at me like I was the world's biggest fool. "Of course it does! Have you forgotten who just up and left?"

Recognition dawned in my eyes, accompanied by guilt. I hadn't told any of the staff or students the reason Alex left. "Oh! Right."

"Well…? Open it!" Mary urged.

I carefully slit the envelope open. In doing so, a bundle encased in a rubber band fell out. Taped to it was a short note. I picked that up first, unconsciously acting upon my parents' dictum to always read the card before opening the present.

_Hugh-_

_Hi. It may be a little later than you, or I, expected, but I do believe I promised the kids a letter. I would love it if you could drop by the room and read it to them. And you can't look at what's in the plastic bag until you're done. _

_If I told you that I didn't miss you guys, it would be a lie. Thanks a bunch._

_(I know one usually ends a letter with a name, but I'm not exactly sure which one to use. Besides, you know who's writing this.) _

I unwrapped the bundle and caught the plastic bag that fell out. True to Alex's wishes, I did not open it. Instead, I glanced up at the clock—five minutes before ninth period.

I looked to my secretary. "Mary, I need to step out for a minute. Could you just hold down the fort?"

"Sure," she nodded. I could tell she was puzzled.

I perused the letter a little before I left my office, smiling at its contents. Making my way down to the English room, I took a breath before opening the door.

Foreign brown eyes and brown hair turned questioningly towards me. "Excuse me, Mrs. Adams, could I talk to the kids for a second?" She nodded but made no move to leave the room. I don't know why, but I didn't want her there. "Um, maybe you could visit the staff lounge for a while…" I trailed off.

She looked slightly offended, but she complied. I then turned to face the kids, and their disinterested faces made me nervous.

"Well, kids, I have something that might make you a little happier. Today, a letter was sent to me. Ms. Brooks wrote it." Their faces lit up in anticipation. "She wrote it just for you guys, and by the feel of it, she made enough copies for everyone to have. Do you want to hear it?"

"Yes!" a million voices shouted.

I smiled. "Okay. Here goes."

_Kids—_

_I don't quite know how to start off this letter. I thought about being funny, and then I realized that's not quite my style. But if I were to adopt a serious tone, a good number of you would start to fall asleep. Roger, stop doodling. _

Roger's eyes widened in shock, then his face flushed in embarrassment. "It really says that, I promise," I said, chuckling. I cleared my throat and continued.

_I bet you didn't think I noticed, did you? Don't forget that a teacher always notices, always remembers. I don't want any of you to think that I would ever forget you. I know it may not seem like it because of how suddenly I left, but the two years I spent teaching your class will stay with me for quite a long time. I want you all to know that I care about each and every one of you. About who you've been, who you are, and who you have yet to become. And, forgive me for being egotistical, I'd like to impart upon you some wisdom that may influence the latter. I've thought a lot about what I wanted to say to you all. Should I tell you that the sky's the limit; should I tell you to be yourself; should I tell you that in the end, no one else matters and the only person you ultimately have to answer to is yourself? No, because I don't really believe all of that. I think you __**should**__ be yourself. I think that the sky __**is**__ the limit, unless, of course, you decide to become an astronaut. But that no one else ultimately matters is the greatest piece of fiction ever written. I have recently found that the complete opposite is true. Everyone matters, but it is up to you to decide just how much. There will be people whom you don't like, and yet they still matter. I remember when I was five, a girl in my class took a paintbrush and smeared green paint all over my face. Her name was Ashley. To this day, I look at anyone with a name of 'Ashley' with some distrust, as though they may be holding a can of green paint behind their backs. Though my reaction may be wrong, Ashley still had an impact on my life. She mattered. I want you treat everyone you see as if they will matter to you later on. I want you to treat everyone as if they are, in the moment you are with them, the only person who does matter. But most importantly, I want all of you to find someone who matters to you. I'm sure you've all heard the saying 'Home is where the heart is.' It is one of those things that people accept as true but never really think about how true it is. Kind of like how soda tastes better when it's in a Styrofoam cup with ice versus just the can. I want all of you to find the person who feels so right to you that you never really stop to think about why they do. Loving someone should be second nature, something that you don't do consciously. It shouldn't be an action, or a feeling, or even a thought. Love should be a constant state of being. I want you to find the person in which that state of being is housed. Because it is in that person you should start to build your home. Where you find your home, so too will you find your heart. _

By the time I finished reading Alex's letter, the entire room was silent. I only realized that my voice had cracked on the last word when someone snickered at my show of emotion and was immediately shushed by the rest of the class.

At a loss for anything better to do, I started passing out the individual letters. Somehow I wasn't surprised to find that she had organized them by the kids' seats.

After I finished, there was a tense silence.

"What's in the bag?" someone finally piped up.

I had completely forgotten about Alex's package, and I told them so. "Why don't I open it?" The kids all nodded eagerly.

Inside the bag was an object wrapped in tissue paper and, of course, a note.

"What does it say?" Roger asked excitedly.

"It looks like something out of a story." I cleared my throat.

"…_And Little Red Riding Hood said to her grandma, 'Granny, where's your home?' Her grandmother looked at her for a moment. 'I don't know, child, but I know I'll make it from every important thing I'll have in my life. 'Oh, Granny,' Red exclaimed, 'what a big home you'll have!' Granny answered softly. 'Yes indeed, child.' She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object. 'What is that for, Granny? Will it help you find your home?' Granny smiled and looked over at Red. 'Of course, dear. All the better to see it with.'"_

I freed the object from its wrapping and felt tears well up in my eyes. Inside were Alex's glasses.

When I passed by the room a few weeks later, they were still there, sitting in a glass case on the teacher's desk, their new home.


End file.
